


Abducted

by Dazzlious



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 02:27:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 63,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9578402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dazzlious/pseuds/Dazzlious
Summary: When something terrible happens to Hermione it appears that only the most unlikely person to give her comfort can help her. But will Draco really help, or will he make things much worse in the long run? Dx





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from JK Rowling’s fantastic books or films, I’m just borrowing and playing with them for a little while and get no monetary reward for doing so. 
> 
> A/N: To be honest I’m not entirely sure where this story came from, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Dx

 

Hermione looked at herself in the mirror as she smoothed down her dress. She was really pleased with it as it was flattering and quite fashionable without being overly provocative. That was definitely important this evening because she didn’t want Michael to get the wrong idea and think she was throwing herself at him. She continued to look in the mirror as she put on her earrings and clasped the matching necklace around her throat. She really liked Michael and was excited to be going out with him on a real date, but she was anxious not to come across as being too needy.

Her success rate with men wasn’t great, she thought ruefully as she moved to the wardrobe to retrieve her shoes and jacket. A few kisses with Viktor Krum in the fourth year of school, which had been lovely at the time but a bit lacking in retrospect; a year of unbridled passion, at least on her side, with Ron, which had fizzled out when she realised that he definitely wasn’t as into her as she was him; six weeks with Jarrod, who worked on the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee, with whom she had struck up a relationship a few months after joining the Ministry of Magic and who had turned out to be as interesting as drying paint; a rotten toad called Stefan, who she had wasted two years of her life on, had actually thought she was in love with, and was seriously considering getting engaged to until she discovered he was cheating on her with not one but two other women; and several single dates since with various losers she had been set up with by her ever-despairing friends. Hermione had no idea why she hadn’t yet met her ideal man but she refused to accept Ron and Harry’s assertion that she was setting her sights too high and needed to be a bit more realistic.

If nothing else, Michael proved that she was right to set her sights high. He was handsome, incredibly so, with long dark hair that curled magnificently in a way hers could never manage, usually over white linen shirts that showed off the colour to perfection. He had such dark eyes they were almost black, although they always held a twinkle that made her heart beat faster, an almost perfect olive-skinned face with high chiselled cheekbones and a prominent nose and chin, but not too prominent, and as if that weren’t enough he had the sort of muscles to make her feel like a weak damsel in distress. When he smiled, which was a lot, Hermione could feel her heart melting and something inside her that had never really considered marriage and children before sprang to life. Yes, Michael had definitely got her biological clock ticking, and she didn’t want to ruin the chance of something more than just one dinner by appearing too eager.

She thought back to earlier in the day when she had met up for coffee with one of her best friends, Ron. She was aware that Ron didn’t like Michael, although Ron had never liked any of her boyfriends, treating her in the same way he had treated his sister Ginny at school before she had finally settled down with Hermione’s other best friend, Harry. She remembered Ron had been worried about the amount of time Michael spent following her around. She had laughed, not taking it at all seriously; after all, she rather liked the idea of Michael wanting to be near her. It was incredibly flattering, especially from someone that gorgeous.   

‘Well, I think it’s just plain creepy. Every time you look round he’s following you. Doesn’t he have any work to do? And where does he work, anyway?’ Ron asked mulishly.

He looked around in distaste as he saw the man he was talking about lurking a few tables away. He was apparently reading a book while drinking his coffee but Ron was sure that was just a cover. Really he was watching Hermione, like he always did.

‘I think he just likes to remind me he’s around in case I forget,’ Hermione said mildly. She was smiling amusedly.

‘Like you _could_ ever forget,’ Ron retorted. ‘He’s a bloody stalker, Hermione. You need to watch out for him. He could be dangerous.’

‘You just don’t know him,’ Hermione assured Ron. ‘He’s fine, honestly. Anyway we’re going out on a proper date tonight.’ Ron looked like he was about to say something but Hermione stopped him. ‘Look, I’m flattered that you’re worried about me but you can’t hate all my boyfriends, Ronald. Michael’s interesting, polite, good-looking and I enjoy being with him. That’s more than I can say about the last few men you and Harry have tried to fix me up with. Perhaps you should get to know him and then you’ll realise he’s not as bad as you think.’

‘How am I supposed to get the chance to get know him? He does a disappearing act every time I join the two of you. Surely it can’t be a coincidence that he has to leave _every_ time?’

‘He works in the Department of Mysteries,’ Hermione explained. ‘You know they’re always having to dash off places and do stuff at odd times.’

‘Well, that’s reason enough for you not to go out with him in the first place,’ Ron said, a cold shiver running down his spine as he remembered the Department of Mysteries. ‘Those people who work in there are all extremely strange . . . and I don’t just mean eccentric.’

‘Well, Michael’s not like them. Honestly he isn’t. I think he’s just a bit shy with people he doesn’t know very well, which is probably why he has to disappear off when you and Harry barrel over all set to give him some big interrogation.’

‘And just how did you meet him again?’ Ron asked suspiciously.

Hermione sighed. ‘He was at that seminar I attended a little while ago. We got talking then, and afterwards we bumped into each other and so went for coffee. It went from there, really.’

‘I just don’t like him following you around all the time,’ Ron grumbled.

‘There’s honestly nothing to worry about,’ Hermione said, grabbing his hand and squeezing it as she gave a smile.

She looked over and saw Michael staring at her and dropped Ron’s hand, not wanting the man to get the wrong impression about her and Ron.

Ron sighed. ‘Well, if you say he’s okay, Hermione, then he must be okay.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Sorry, got to dash. Got a lead on a case and I think we’re going in this afternoon.’ He stood up and Hermione joined him. ‘I’ll see you later in the week and you can tell me how the date went with Mr Creepy.’ He bent to kiss Hermione’s cheek.

‘Don’t call him that,’ Hermione rebuked.

Ron rolled his eyes as he walked away from the table backwards. He waved.

‘See you later. Take care.’

‘Good luck,’ Hermione called as she waved goodbye to Ron.

She looked back towards the table where Michael had been sitting. He was no longer there.

It was possible, Hermione supposed as she pinned a brooch onto her jacket, that you could consider Michael a bit creepy if you didn’t know him. He did have a habit of popping up unexpectedly wherever she was, and although he had made it clear he liked her he had steadfastly refused to get to know any of her friends at all. But Hermione knew that part of it was shyness.

Like many of the people working in the mysterious department Michael called home when he was at work, he was not particularly good at interacting with others. Hermione wasn’t sure why this was when he was so incredibly handsome, but he definitely had a nervous disposition and wasn’t comfortable unless he was with people he knew well. Hermione felt she should be grateful that Michael had made an exception for her, but then there was a very special reason why they had got to know each other.

Hermione hadn’t told Ron or Harry very much about the seminar where she had met Michael, mainly because she knew they wouldn’t be interested. But they probably would be interested in knowing how she had met him. Even thinking back to it now Hermione was amazed that she had been so calm and rational, and was even gladder she been at the seminar. If she hadn’t Michael would probably be dead and there would be no date tonight with a hopeful chance of more to come.

She had been circling the room talking to various people, as everyone seemed to be, staying within drooling distance of but not actually talking to an incredibly handsome dark-haired man who she now knew as Michael. She had been standing in the group next to his when Michael collapsed. Panic ensued and, as was often the case in these situations, everyone was running around like headless chickens without actually doing anything useful.

Hermione had immediately dropped to her knees to examine the prone man and discovered he had stopped breathing. Completely forgetting about magic for the time being and silently thanking her parents for sending her on a St John’s Ambulance course during the summer holidays when she was thirteen, Hermione set to work checking that his passageways were cleared, and then, to the amazement of the whole room, she gave him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. She attracted quite a crowd of onlookers as she alternately pounded his chest and blew into his mouth, but she finally managed to get him breathing again, to a round of applause from the audience, and then put him into the recovery position and sat with him until the Healers arrived from St Mungo’s hospital.

She fretted about the handsome man after he was taken away, worried that she had been too late to stop brain damage or that something else might have gone wrong, until someone — she still wasn’t sure who — suggested she go to the hospital to check on him. Sitting at his bedside, Hermione harboured a little fantasy that the gorgeous man would wake up and, although it was impossible in reality, realise that she had saved his life and would be grateful enough to whisk her away for romance, marriage and lots of lovely curly-haired children.

In fact that was what _had_ almost happened, Hermione thought. When Michael came round the Healer-in-charge told him what Hermione had done to save him. She remembered his fantastic smile and his whispered thanks as he gripped her hand, bringing it to his lips time and again. She left him shortly after, as he needed to rest, but promised to return the following day. When Michael left the hospital and returned to work he came to find her and invited her for coffee, and their relationship had gone from there. She was aware that even now he was still grateful to her for what she had done for him, but she was really hoping that by this time he looked on her as more than just his saviour.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Hermione smiled happily as she and Michael walked down the street. She’d had a brilliant evening and was fairly certain she was falling big-time for the gorgeous man who was holding her hand as they walked. Their date had been everything she had hoped for and more, and she was loath for the evening to end.

For a moment she considered inviting him back to her place for coffee, but even as she thought about it, she could hear Ron and Harry screaming at her for being stupid and opening herself up to Merlin only knew what once he knew her address. Although Hermione didn’t believe Michael was a stalker she had always been careful and knew that arousing as he was, she would still need to know him considerably better before inviting him into her home, especially alone.

‘I was wondering if you wanted to come back to my place for coffee,’ Michael said, his voice as gorgeous as the rest of him.

Hermione bit her lip. Really, she should turn down his offer. If she wasn’t willing to allow him into her house then surely she shouldn’t be going to his either. But he was gorgeous, and she didn’t really want the evening to come to an end.

‘That’s all right, I understand you’re a tad nervous. After all, you don’t really know me all that well,’ Michael said, sounding a little disappointed when she didn’t immediately answer him. ‘I just wanted to spend more time with you, Hermione. I’m not ready for our date to end just yet.’

‘Perhaps we could go for a walk instead?’ Hermione suggested, indicating the park that stretched out in front of them. ‘I don’t really want any coffee at this time of night.’

Michael chuckled and pulled Hermione towards him, wrapping his arms around her. ‘I didn’t really intend to have coffee,’ he admitted as he bent to kiss her.

Hermione’s heart fluttered at his words and at his kiss, which was tender and soft.

‘You are so beautiful, Hermione. I can’t stop looking at you. You must think I’m some sort of stalker,’ Michael said smilingly once the kissing ended for a short while. They started walking through the park, once again holding hands.

‘No, it’s kind of exciting to have someone that interested in you,’ Hermione admitted.

‘Oh, and I’m definitely interested in you,’ Michael said, and he kissed her again.   

The kissing continued for quite some time and it took Hermione even longer to notice she was getting cold. She shivered.

‘Are you sure I can’t tempt you into that coffee?’ Michael asked.

Hermione shook her head. ‘You’ve already told me there’s no coffee, remember?’

‘Ah, caught out by my own words,’ Michael lamented smilingly. Then he continued seductively, ‘What about if I offered you cocoa instead . . . and a nice warm bed?’

Hermione smiled. ‘It sounds lovely, Michael, it really does. But I think I should be getting back now. I’ve got a long day tomorrow and a meeting with the Goblin Liaison Office that I’m really not looking forward to.’

‘Lucky you,’ Michael said, sounding sympathetic. He squeezed her tightly. ‘So I’ll have to make our next date at the weekend when you don’t have to get up for work. Then you’ll have no reason to turn me down and we won’t have to worry about getting up.’ He leant close to kiss Hermione’s neck then whispered in her ear, ‘I really want to make love to you, Hermione.’

Hermione’s heart leapt and started beating faster as a strange swirly feeling raced inside her stomach. For a moment a vision of the curly-haired children ran through her brain, she and Michael walking along holding hands behind them.

‘I’m really flattered but I need to go,’ she said apologetically.

‘That’s all right, I can wait,’ Michael said with a smile. ‘It’ll be even sweeter then.’

He leant forward and kissed her again, and Hermione thought she would stop breathing. Finally he released her.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he said with a smile as he stepped back, giving Hermione enough space to Apparate.

‘I look forward to it,’ Hermione admitted, her own smile almost splitting her face apart.

The last thing she saw before she Disapparated was Michael blowing her a kiss.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Hermione sighed happily and stretched. She had just had the most magnificent sex and was feeling extremely contented. Michael wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into one of his marvellous kisses.

‘That was really fantastic,’ he told her sincerely.

Hermione nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly.

‘I was beginning to think I was never going to get you into bed,’ Michael said almost chidingly. ‘So many times I’ve offered and every time you turned me down flat. It was beginning to get disheartening.’

‘I was just being careful and getting to know you better,’ Hermione explained. ‘I’m not really a one-night-stand sort of girl.’

‘I didn’t intend to make it one night,’ Michael said as he kissed her shoulder. ‘Just the first of many blissful nights.’

‘You know what I mean,’ Hermione said.

She sighed. Michael did absolutely amazing things with his mouth.

‘I was worried that you didn’t really like me,’ he said a little while later. ‘A gorgeous woman like you can have anyone, so I know I’ve got a lot of competition.’

Hermione held Michael’s face as she kissed him, gazing into his beautiful dark eyes between lip touches.

‘ _You_ are absolutely gorgeous, Michael. You must know that.’

He chuckled deprecatingly. ‘I got lucky. My family is Italian and they’re all smoking hot. I’m not the handsome one by any stretch of the imagination, my elder brother Raphael is a million times better-looking than me, but I’ve done okay. I think the hair helps.’

‘I love your hair,’ Hermione admitted as she ran her hands through his lustrous locks. ‘I wish I could get mine to curl like that, but alas, it prefers the bird's nest look. I don’t think I want to meet your brother, though. I’m not sure my ovaries could cope with the experience. I have enough problem just looking at you.’

Michael gripped her possessively. ‘I’m definitely not introducing you to my brother. You’re mine. I’m not having him steal you away from me.’

‘I don’t think that’s very likely,’ Hermione told him as she kissed him again. ‘You are more than enough for me.’

‘I’m glad to hear you say that because I was just thinking about making love again,’ Michael suggested lasciviously.

‘Mmmm, yes please,’ Hermione replied, hoping she didn’t sound as eager as she felt or that would just be embarrassing.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Hermione had no idea what time it was. Time seemed to be an abstract concept here in Michael’s bedroom. The curtains at the windows were thick and dark, letting in no light, and the same candles were burning that had accompanied their lovemaking all night. She was feeling pleasantly sated and rather knackered. Michael had an Italian stallion libido, that was for sure.

She had never had sex so much, certainly not in one night, nor had it been as energetic, and as it was the weekend and she didn’t have to get up for work she had quite a large expectation of more still to come. She wasn’t sure whether Michael would want to spend the entire weekend with her or if he would want to spend it all in bed, but she was certainly up for the challenge if he did. He really was a magnificent lover and she was happy to be his muse.

‘Are you awake?’ Michael’s soft voice sounded sleepy.

‘Yes.’

Before she could say anything else Hermione found herself pulled into a hug, Michael’s mouth finding hers as it had done so many times that night.

‘I’ve no idea what the time is but I suppose we should think about food,’ he said, taking a break from the kissing.

‘If you want,’ Hermione said easily, happy to do whatever he wanted.

‘Well, we could get up, I suppose,’ Michael said, but he didn’t sound overly enthusiastic.

‘You don’t sound too eager,’ Hermione replied. ‘Do you want to go back to sleep instead?’

Michael shook his head and grinned wickedly. ‘No, what I really want is to build up a bit more of an appetite.’

‘So what were you thinking of?’ Hermione asked gently.

‘It must have been several hours since we last made love,’ he pointed out. ‘I think we ought to do it again.’

‘Why, do you think we’re going to forget how to do it?’ Hermione asked cheekily, her own grin wide.

Michael laughed. ‘I just think we need as much practice as we can get.’ He kissed her again, then continued, ‘I’m hoping you haven’t got anything planned this weekend and I can convince you to stay with me. Selfish, I know, but I really don’t want to let you go. The idea of spending the whole weekend with you is an extremely pleasurable one, Hermione.’

‘Hmmm. Well, as luck would have it my diary happens to be completely empty this weekend,’ Hermione said.

‘Apart from spending the weekend making love with me, you mean,’ Michael answered, his voice soft and sensual.

‘Is that all we’re going to do?’ Hermione asked. She didn’t sound too disappointed at the prospect.

‘Well, I suppose we could consider going out somewhere . . . eventually.’ Michael rolled Hermione over so she was lying underneath him and his Romanesque nose brushed against hers for a moment. ‘More lovemaking first, though, and then we’ll consider getting up and going to get some breakfast . . . or lunch . . . or whatever.’

‘That sounds perfect to me,’ Hermione admitted as she pulled his head down for another kiss.

 

 

* * *

 

 

They actually made it out of the house, although it was fairly late in the afternoon by the time they eventually emerged into the outside world, a rather long and interesting shower having taken quite some time once they finally managed to leave the bed. They wandered to a local market that Michael knew and chose food from several of the many delicious-smelling stalls before wandering hand in hand through the rest of the market browsing among knick-knacks and curios. Michael bought Hermione a necklace, a beautifully delicate enamelled rose, that was clearly very old and with which she fell in love the moment she saw it.

On the way home they stopped at a pub for a few drinks. They sat in the pub garden at a white plastic table with a large umbrella, overlooking the river which Hermione assumed was the Thames. She realised that she didn’t actually have a clue where she was as Michael had Apparated her directly into his home after they left the restaurant on Friday evening and she hadn’t recognised the names of any of the places they had visited this afternoon. She assumed they were still in the London area rather than anywhere else in the country purely because of the southern accents that were prevalent everywhere they had been.

‘Where are we?’ she asked lazily.

Hermione relaxed back in her chair as she watched a magnificent pair of pure white swans swimming down the river. A trio of ugly little grey cygnets followed close behind their parents, all eager to get to their nest before the sun went down. It was going to be a close-run thing. The smallest of the cygnets kept getting left behind and made little squawking noises of distress, which made the rest slow down. The picturesque sunset was almost gone and thick bands of dark blue sky were stealing over the pinks and oranges that had been there only a few minutes earlier.

‘Is it important?’ Michael returned the question with a question.

He was holding her hand, stroking it gently as he sipped at his beer.

Hermione shrugged. ‘Not really, I suppose, but I was thinking it was lovely and peaceful here and then I couldn’t help wondering where “here” was. It’s not somewhere I recognise, so I don’t think I’ve been to the area before.’

‘We’re near Kingston,’ Michael said after a few seconds, as if he had been debating whether or not to tell her. ‘Kingston upon Thames. Obviously that’s the Thames.’ He pointed to the river.

Hermione nodded approvingly. ‘I like it. It’s not citified like the centre of London. It’s much quieter and greener. It’s very pleasant.’

Michael smiled as he stroked her hand. ‘I’m glad you like it. Hopefully that means you won’t be averse to spending more time with me in the future.’

‘I’m sure you’ll manage to twist my arm,’ Hermione replied playfully.

‘I wouldn’t want to do that, it might hurt,’ Michael said seriously. His hand moved further up Hermione’s arm, his fingers tracing little spiralling patterns over her skin. ‘I don’t ever want to hurt you, Hermione.’

‘Well I’m glad about that,’ Hermione said, trying to lighten the mood which had suddenly taken on a rather heavy tone. ‘I didn’t mean literally twist my arm, obviously. I was more thinking that you could find a way to persuade me to stay.’

‘Oh, I think I know of something,’ Michael said. The grin reappeared on his face, all solemnity gone now.

‘Really?’ Hermione sounded interested. ‘And what would that be?’

‘Well, if we go back to the house I can show you,’ Michael said, his voice salacious.

Hermione drained the last of her wine as Michael finished his pint.

‘I can’t wait to see what you have in mind,’ she told him as they rose to go.

‘I think you’ll be impressed,’ Michael said as he led her out of the garden and down the road. ‘In fact, you may never want to leave.’

‘It would need to be extremely good for that to happen,’ Hermione told him honestly although she kept her voice playful so as not to ruin the mood.

For a moment those little curly-haired children came back into her mind. Perhaps Michael would eventually convince her that she didn’t want to leave after all.

‘Oh, it will be,’ he promised. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Hermione had finally managed to prise open the curtains, desperate to get some natural light. She was completely disorientated now and had no idea whether it was day or night. She didn’t even have a clue what day of the week it was, although when she tried to think about it rationally she clung to the belief that she had been here for eleven days. All time was eternal for her now and had almost ceased to have any meaning.

She groaned miserably as she realised that her days of hard work and mendacity had been for nothing. The outsides of the windows were covered with heavy wooden shutters that completely blocked out the light, and the windows themselves were locked. God, anyone would think Michael was a bloody vampire the way he kept everything in darkness all the time.

With a sigh she made her way to the en-suite bathroom, the only place other than the master bedroom that she was allowed to go when Michael was out of the house. She couldn’t even judge time by his leaving because she was convinced he wasn’t working regular days any longer. Of course, he worked for the Department of Mysteries and no one except the employees themselves knew what went on there or what their working hours were, but Hermione had a feeling he was purposely working at different times in order to keep her confused and off-kilter.  

Hermione looked at the vent above the bath, the only access to the outside world in the small bathroom, and wondered whether she could break through it and finally get some fresh air. She knew it would be impossible to do with only her bare hands. She felt stifled, trapped as she was in this dark mausoleum of a house, especially when she was confined to the bedroom. She turned on the taps and filled the bath with water. She had no idea when Michael would be back but it was best to be prepared. She didn’t want him getting angry with her again.

Michael liked her to be clean – ready for him, he called it – and to make sure she was, Hermione spent almost as much time in the bathroom as she did in the bedroom. She had long ago given up any thoughts of trying to escape after the one attempt she made ended with Michael punishing her for what he called her wilfulness. That was something she had no desire to live through again. She no longer believed that anyone would be able to help her, because surely Ron and Harry would already have found her if she could be found.

She vaguely remembered something she had seen or read that said that most abductees were usually traced within the first forty-eight hours after they were taken. After that the trail went cold and it became almost impossible, and after a week the person was generally considered by the authorities to be dead.

Although she had no idea how, Michael had managed to make her disappear, and Hermione could only think that he had illegally made his Muggle house Unplottable so no one could find it using magic, if they were even looking out in the Muggle world for her. She couldn’t believe that no one suspected him of taking her — her friends definitely would — but somehow he was still free and she was still trapped.

Hermione got into the bath and tried to pretend this was something she wanted to do, a nice relaxing bath to while away the time while she waited for Michael to come home. It didn’t work, though. All she could think about was Michael returning, his libido as strong as it had been since that first weekend. She gave a small bitter chuckle as she remembered how impressed she had been with him at the time and how eagerly she had agreed to stay.

Why hadn’t she listened to Ron? He had told her what Michael was like but she had refused to believe him. The truth was that she hadn’t thought anyone so handsome could be so . . . so unhinged; but surely the hints were there. His refusal to get to know her friends should have been a huge warning. But she had ignored it and all the other signs and now she was stuck in this hell, probably forever.

The idea that she was never going to see daylight again, was never going to see her friends, made her cry as it had so many times before, but as always, she forced herself to stop and after several deep breaths managed to calm herself enough to continue with her ablutions. Michael didn’t like it when she cried, just as he didn’t like it when she wasn’t completely submissive to his wishes, because it ruined his little charade. He liked to think of them as the perfect couple, and Hermione crying put cracks in that façade.

Michael loved her. Hermione knew this because he told her all the time. She told him she loved him in return even though it wasn’t true, because she was too scared to do otherwise.

So far he had never seriously hurt her, although he had come close after she tried to escape; she was terrified that if she pushed him too far he would do something terrible to her. Once the escape attempt had failed and she had learned her lesson Hermione had tried hard to be the girlfriend he wanted her to be in the hope that Michael would give her more freedom. Even just a trip to the shops or a walk round the market, an evening at the pub — any of these things would have given her some relief. Just the chance to know whether it was day or night, to see the sky and feel the wind on her face, these were things she dreamed of and prayed for but was never granted.

Michael said he couldn’t trust her not to try to escape if he allowed her to leave the house, but Hermione knew he had broken her. If he allowed her outside she would be so grateful to him that she would do anything he wanted; she wouldn’t make trouble, wouldn’t try to escape this time. But Michael already got whatever he wanted and he didn’t need to let her out to get it. Instead, he kept her trapped in the bedroom that held little pleasure for her any longer.

She was his sex toy. He had told her that on the day he imprisoned her, on that awful day when he had stolen her wand and refused to let her leave. At first she thought he was joking, playing up not wanting her to leave him after the wonderful weekend they had just spent together. It started out as fun; she had even joked with him about it. But then he forced her back into bed and told her that she was his sex toy and he could do whatever he wanted with her, and suddenly Hermione knew he wasn’t joking. Afterwards he tried to comfort her and set out to explain why he wasn’t letting her leave, but it was too late, the damage was done, and nothing he could say would make Hermione want to stay with him.  

To be fair to Michael, he wasn’t a complete tyrant. He did try to please her. In fact, he spent an inordinate amount of time trying to make her climax. Hermione had taken to faking it so he didn’t get angry. The sad thing was that Michael was still a considerate and highly skilled lover, most of the time at least, but Hermione’s terror and the deep swathes of depression that consumed her for large stretches of time combined with the disgust she now felt for him made her unable to enjoy the things they did together.

At first she tried to understand Michael’s reasoning, but it just didn’t make sense to her and she found herself drawing away from him. As time went on the chasm between them widened, although Hermione knew Michael didn’t see it that way. Apparently, he didn’t see anything wrong with keeping her locked away.

He told her he was doing it because he couldn’t bear to see her even talking to anyone else. He mentioned the day she had held Ron’s hand as an example, explaining that it had made him so jealous he’d had to stop her from being with other people. Hermione tried to reason with him, tried to make him see that she needed to go to work, and even agreed to live with him at the house if he would let her go.

But Michael was adamant: she was to see no one but him. Having already taken her wand while she was sleeping, he then took her clothes, too, so she couldn’t leave. Then he went to work, leaving her alone in the house she couldn’t escape from, although she had certainly tried — that was when he confined her to the master bedroom unless he was in the house. Then she had to be wherever he wanted her to be. It was a nightmare, and one that could only get worse.

Michael had talked about them having a baby almost from the first day he had imprisoned her. She remembered the curly-haired children she had seen in her mind so many times before and how much she had liked the idea, but now the thought made her blood run cold as it would mean she was stuck with him forever. But it was going to happen eventually, there was nothing she could do to stop it.

When Hermione first became sexually active she had been horrified to discover that the wizarding world wasn’t particularly big on contraception as they were a growing population that needed more witches and wizards. Knowing that she didn’t want children until she found ‘the one,’ and certainly not until she was well established in her career — which meant well into her thirties as far as she was concerned — she had gone on the Muggle pill, determined not to leave such an important thing to chance and a randy wizard.

It was because of the pill that she thought she had been at the house for eleven days. Fortunately, her tablets had been in her toiletry bag, not her luggage, so they hadn’t been confiscated, although Hermione was sure they would be if Michael knew what they were. She continued to take them at intervals of what she judged to be once a day, usually waiting until Michael left the house. She had been on day four when she stayed with Michael on Friday night and she had six pills left.

In just over a week she faced the prospect of her period starting if she wasn’t rescued by then. The thought that she might still be here when that happened made her feel sick. She didn’t believe in God, exactly, but she still said a little prayer to anyone who might be listening to get her released before that happened. She wasn’t at all sure how Michael would react to her period, particularly with his incessant desire for sex — although come to think of it, she wasn’t sure how she was going to handle it when she had no clothes, and no sanitary supplies even if she had.

Once the period was over there would be no more contraception, and with the amount of time they spent having sex Hermione couldn’t believe that it would be too long before she was pregnant. The only thing she could hope for was that once that happened, Michael would begin to let her leave the house, even if it was only to see a Healer. 

Hermione looked in the mirror as she dried herself. Surprisingly, she didn’t look too bad. Miserable, of course, but that was only to be expected, although Michael liked her to smile when she was with him, something that was sometimes extremely hard to achieve. Having finished with her moisturising, Hermione retrieved her makeup bag and began to slowly and carefully put on her makeup. She had to look her best for Michael, he had made that crystal clear right from the off, and he didn’t like it if he felt she hadn’t made the effort. She knew it couldn’t be too much longer now until he came home, and she needed to be ready and waiting for him when he did. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Hermione was crying again. She couldn’t stop herself, however much she knew she should try. Last night Michael had cooked her a special meal to celebrate what he called ‘a fortnight of bliss’, which had panicked her a little as it didn’t tally with what her pills were telling her. He was in a romantic and loving mood, and although she now detested him for what he was doing to her she found herself enjoying the tender cuddling and even the kisses.

The wine she had drunk with dinner had relaxed her a little, which helped, and that in turn had relaxed Michael. She even dared to ask him some questions, trying to put straight in her own mind how he had managed to keep her hidden for so long. Because Michael seemed in such a good mood Hermione took a chance and admitted to him her desire for some fresh air, even just for a few minutes, and amazingly he had granted her request.

Michael left Hermione alone in the dining room and she began to worry that she had gone too far. But a few minutes later he was back and within another few seconds had wrapped her up in his dressing gown. Taking hold of her hand to make it clear that she wasn’t to try to escape, he opened the back door and led her outside, allowing her to descend the few stairs into the small garden beyond.

Although it was dark and Hermione could see little but shadows, she could see the stars twinkling above her and was seriously convinced they were the most beautiful things she had ever seen in her life. There was a breeze, too, enough to move her hair, and she found herself crying, her face soaked with tears, and feeling profoundly grateful to Michael for allowing her these few minutes of absolute joy.

He took her to bed once they returned to the house and Hermione tried hard to enjoy what they were doing, still grateful for the brief taste of freedom and hopeful that more would follow if she pleased Michael sufficiently. It was during a lull in their lovemaking that he finally told her, gleefully and with a certain amount of pride, how he had so successfully managed to stage her abduction.

‘But I still don’t understand why you did this to me. I wanted to be with you, we had a fantastic weekend, so why lock me away?’ Hermione asked, trying to keep the hurt out of her voice. It was important she remain calm, otherwise it might set Michael off.

Michael thought for a moment, his hand gently stroking Hermione’s cheek as he gazed at her lovingly. ‘I don’t want to share you with anyone else, Hermione,’ he told her honestly. ‘I love you and I don’t want other men ogling you, or worse.’

‘But I’m not interested in anyone else,’ Hermione protested. ‘You’re my boyfriend.’

Michael gave her a hard stare. ‘But I can’t trust you, Hermione. I saw you with that redhead; always hugging him, touching him. And that other one. The one with the dark hair.’

‘Ron is the redhead and Harry has the dark hair. The pair of them are my best friends and have been since we were eleven, Michael. There’s nothing between us but affection. I tried to introduce you to them but you always had to dash off . . . were always too busy to take the time to get to know them,’ Hermione explained, a touch of reproach creeping into her voice. ‘My only interest was in you, but I don’t like being held captive. It’s freaking me out.’

‘I have to keep you away from other men,’ Michael insisted. ‘It’s the only way I can be sure you’re mine.’

Hermione shook her head. ‘But you can’t keep me here forever. You’ll have to let me go eventually.’

‘I don’t see why,’ Michael retorted. ‘I’ve no need to let you go. We’re perfectly happy here like this.’

‘I’m _not_ perfectly happy, Michael. How can I be when you keep me locked away? It can’t last. My friends that you’re so worried about will be looking for me, I can assure you of that, and they won’t stop whatever happens; however long it takes. Eventually, they will track me down and they’re not going to be very happy with you when they find you. Let me go before they come to get me . . . please. It doesn’t have to be the end of us — we can still be a couple. You just need to let me go back to work.’

Michael chuckled as he ran his fingers down Hermione’s body. She shivered, unsure whether it was because of his touch or the tone of his voice.

‘They’re never going to find you, Hermione. Where would they look for you? We’re outside the wizarding world and I’ve used all sorts of illegal magic to ensure they can’t find the house, even if they had the faintest idea where to start looking — which I can assure you they don’t.’

He bent to kiss Hermione tenderly on the lips, pulling her more comfortably into his arms.

‘Actually, I have to thank you, my love, for taking so long to give yourself to me. It annoyed me initially, but then I realised that it was a gift. It gave me the time to plan properly rather than just improvise, and everything fell into place perfectly.’

‘Hasn’t anyone asked you what happened to me?’ Hermione asked in disbelief.

‘Why would they? No one I work with even knows that you exist. I no longer work at the Ministry of Magic, Hermione. I left there the day you came to live with me.’

‘I didn’t come to live with you,’ Hermione retorted automatically, then froze as she waited to see what Michael would do. His hand had stopped in its travels and suddenly gripped her hip painfully. When he didn’t react further she added, ‘And what do you mean, you left? You didn’t tell me you were leaving the Department of Mysteries.’

‘You didn’t need to know,’ Michael replied imperiously. ‘You only need to be aware of what happens in here, not outside. It’s of no importance to you any longer.’

‘But you couldn’t just leave,’ Hermione said. ‘They’ll track you down at your new job, it’s only a matter of time. They keep records, you know, and they’ll know where you’ve gone.’

Michael weighed up the thought in his mind for a moment, then grinned like a shark. ‘Unlikely, I would think. I changed all my personnel records so they have fake details, and at the same time I destroyed yours. Even if they manage to work that out they still won’t be able to find me because they won’t have a clue where I live or where my new job is. The new place has been given false details as well, and they don’t match with the ones I left for the Ministry to find so there’s no connection.’

‘But how could you do that?’ Hermione asked, sounding shocked. ‘How did you get access—?’

‘It’s amazing where you’re allowed to go in the Ministry when you work for the Department of Mysteries. Nowhere is barred to you, and everyone thinks we’re a bunch of freaks so they pretty much leave us alone. It’s easy to get into the personnel department after hours and change a few things,’ Michael told her.

Hermione could feel the tears, although she tried to stop them knowing they wouldn’t help. Michael, realising she was upset, squeezed her tightly, pulling her close to him.

‘Don’t worry, Hermione. I’ll look after you. You’ll never have to worry about anything ever again. I love you so much and I only want what’s best for you.’ He stroked the corners of her eyes, brushing away the few tears that had escaped. ‘What we need is to have a baby. That’ll take your mind off working and all that stupid stuff like your friends. Everything will be perfect then — you, me and the baby living here so happy and in love.’

Hermione stared at him blankly, unable to think of anything to say that wouldn’t antagonise him.

‘I think it’s time we had another try, don’t you?’ He winked at her as if they were sharing a secret. ‘Well . . . don’t you?’

Hermione couldn’t think of anything she wanted less, but she couldn’t think of a way to stop it either because saying no wasn’t an option. She gave a wan smile. ‘That would be nice,’ she whispered.

‘Better than nice,’ Michael said as he moved on top of her. ‘Absolutely perfect!’

Hermione sighed as she remembered what had happened then. It wasn’t really so different to every other time they’d had sex, but somehow Michael was even more possessive than before. Maybe it was because she had lost all hope when he told her what lengths he had gone to in his efforts to ensnare her and realised that he had to have been planning it almost from the first time they had gone for coffee.

She had no idea what had made her such an attractive prospect to him, but unfortunately he seemed to know enough about her that he was able to play her perfectly and she had fallen for him hook, line, and sinker. Her despair had grown in the hours since then; she was now even more convinced that she was never going to get away from him.

Finally Michael left her alone again and went to work at his new job that he completely refused to discuss, even though she had tried to get him to open up about it. He told her she didn’t need to know. All she needed was to know that he loved her and was looking after her, providing her with everything she required. Hermione was so upset at what she had learned about his perfidy that she was unable to react to this blatant lie.

Once he had gone Hermione got up and had a shower, needing to clean herself, to get the smell of Michael off her body for a short while at least. Then, with depression almost overwhelming her, she went back to bed afterwards, huddled up into a ball as she broke down and wept at the unfairness of the situation she found herself in.

She tried to stop but the tears just kept coming — a never-ending stream that did nothing to stem the pain she was feeling inside. As she cried she moved into another world, her mind retreating from the horror of realising that she was forever trapped, that Harry and Ron would never find her. She was going to have to spend the rest of her life with Michael, having babies, and seeing nothing but the inside of this dark and brooding house.

 

. . .

 

She was so far inside herself that she didn’t hear the noise.

She was so far inside herself that she didn’t hear the low, urgent voices.

She was so far inside herself that she didn’t notice when the bedroom door was thrown open and a wizard dressed head to foot in black leather strode into the room, wand held out in front of him as he looked around.

‘Nothing in here, sir.’ A female voice came through the door. ‘It’s a dining room. It’s empty.’

‘The kitchen is empty and the door to the garden is locked, boss,’ another voice, this one male, reported, sounding slightly further away.

‘I’ve got her,’ the wizard in the bedroom said, his voice husky.

He leant over the bed and gazed at the curled figure of Hermione. She was rocking herself as she cried and he wasn’t entirely sure she was sane. At least she was still alive. He gave a large sigh, pulled the sheet off the bed and threw it over the weeping woman, wrapping it around her as he carefully picked her up.

He gazed down at her, his face etched with worry.

‘Hermione, can you hear me?’

Hermione ignored the man, still buried so far inside herself that she was completely unaware she was being rescued.

‘Don’t worry, you’re safe now,’ the man told her softly as he carried her from the room.

‘Is she okay, sir?’ the woman, who was dressed in a similar black leather uniform to her boss, asked worriedly.

The man who had been in the kitchen and, like the other two, was wearing leather walked into the bedroom, glanced cursorily around it, then entered the bathroom with his wand held out ahead of him.

‘I don’t know. She seems to be all right physically but I’m not sure about mentally. I shall take her to St Mungo’s and they can give her a thorough examination,’ the boss replied.

The man returned from the bathroom carrying Hermione’s toiletry bag between finger and thumb. He waved it at his boss.

‘I think this is hers, boss. It’s got makeup and stuff in it.’

The boss opened his hand to take the bag. ‘I’ll take that. It might give her some comfort to have her stuff. What about clothes?’

The witch and wizard both shook their heads.

‘Nothing so far, but we’ll keep looking,’ the witch told him. She rolled her eyes. ‘Props will be here soon to disable all the spells and take over as if they did all the hard work. You know they’ll find them if there’s anything to find.’

The boss nodded. ‘Good. I’ll take Hermione to the hospital, then I’ll check in at the office and let them know she’s safe so they can spread the word to her family and friends to give them a bit of relief. I’ll get Sanderson to come down and help you to see if you can get done before Props arrive. I hate those smug gits. We’ll have a short debrief in the morning once we know what’s happening both here and with that scumbag Antenucci. With any luck the bastard should be safely locked away in Azkaban by then.’


	2. Chapter 2

Draco waited anxiously while the Healers examined Hermione. He was worried about her considering the state he had found her in. It had been over ten years since he had last seen her and at that time he hadn’t got on with her particularly well, but things had moved on, and whatever his personal feelings may have been previously he was here to do his job and he would complete it properly.

Once the Healer and his staff had taken Hermione into the examination room Draco returned to the Ministry of Magic, both to report to his own boss about the success of the mission and to coordinate with the other teams within the Department who were closing in to arrest Hermione’s abductor.

He requested that he be allowed to tell Hermione’s two best friends, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, that she had been successfully rescued. He was denied this opportunity, however, as he was summoned to another debrief, which took priority, but his boss Yaxley, the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, assured Draco that he would pass the message on to Hermione’s friends.

Draco warned Yaxley not to allow anyone to see Hermione for the time being as he knew they would be eager to, citing the need to question her still as a reason for keeping them away so her memories weren’t skewed by having spoken to other people. In reality, Draco put them off because he didn’t want anyone seeing her in her current condition, knowing it would distress them and it wasn’t fair to Hermione.

Once Draco was certain everything he could do had been done and he was sure that the vile bastard who had abducted Hermione was close to capture and incarceration, he returned to the hospital to await the Healers’ verdict, which was why he was currently impatiently pacing the floor of the visitor’s waiting room.

The door opened and a man in green robes entered, smiling brightly.

‘Hi, my name’s Healer Brangbourne,’ he announced pleasantly, holding his hand out to shake Draco’s. 

‘Draco Malfoy . . . how is she?’ Draco asked immediately, surprised at the sound of worry in his voice.

‘Miss Granger is perfectly fine now,’ Healer Brangbourne confirmed soothingly. ‘She’s in shock and a little overwhelmed by everything that’s happened to her, but otherwise she’s perfectly fit and ready to go whenever you want to take her. From what I understand, her captor spent most of his time attempting to disorientate Miss Granger rather than injure her. She had no idea what day of the week it was, or even what hour. She told me she had been trapped in the house ever since she was taken and didn’t even know whether it was day or night.’

‘The house was completely dark,’ Draco confirmed, sounding disgusted. ‘He had put dark wooden shutters on all the windows, which he locked, so Hermione couldn’t see or get out. He even tacked the curtains to the window surrounds so she couldn’t open them. It was pitch dark in there apart from a few candles when we went in to retrieve her, even though it was eleven o’clock in the morning. It’s not a surprise that she’s disorientated, especially after a couple of weeks of that.’ He looked carefully at Healer Brangbourne and, trying to do his job, asked, ‘Was she hurt at all?’

Healer Brangbourne shook his head. ‘There are quite a few bruises, although they are mainly old ones. There’s nothing too serious, though, and no broken bones.’

Draco looked relieved. ‘He didn’t torture her or anything, then?’

‘Not as far as I can see. But you’ll need to question Miss Granger thoroughly to find out for sure in case he used magic on her, as that’s something we can’t tell from our examinations. I would recommend you give her a little while to recover before you pose the more difficult questions that might upset her or she may have a relapse. Gentle questioning should be okay as long as you give her breathing space if she needs it,’ Healer Brangbourne said sternly.

Draco nodded understandingly.

‘Can you take me to her?’ he asked.

Healer Brangbourne nodded and as they left the waiting room he indicated they should go left.

Conversationally he said, ‘I don’t know if you have any clothes for Miss Granger to put on before you go. She’s still covered in that sheet at the moment. We tried to remove it and get her to put on a gown instead, but she refused to let go of it. It may well be that she’s using it as something of a safety blanket, so be aware of that if you try to take it away from her. I know you probably want it to take it into evidence, but she may not want to give it up.’

He pushed open a door and allowed Draco to enter the room ahead of him. Hermione turned to look at them, a faint look of panic on her face.

‘I’ve come to take you home, Hermione. Healer Brangbourne has given you the all clear,’ Draco told her, keeping his voice gentle in case she was scared. He gazed at her for a moment, then added, ‘Are you ready to go home?’

Hermione stared at Draco as if it was the first time she had ever seen him. She knew who he was, of course — she could hardly forget after seven years of his mean behaviour at school — but it was as if she was looking at someone completely different. He had grown up so much in the years since she had last seen him, and although a little part of her was horrified that she was thinking it, he was even more handsome than he had been at school.

Perhaps it was the black leather — it definitely didn’t hurt — but there was more to it than that. Hermione wasn’t sure what, though, and didn’t want to probe the thought too deeply. She couldn’t understand what he was doing here, although to be honest things were so confused that she probably shouldn’t be surprised that it was Draco Malfoy rather than one of her friends who was to be her companion.

‘Are you ready to leave?’ Draco asked again, wondering what she was staring at.

Hermione shook her head as if clearing it. ‘What? Leave . . . oh . . . yes. Yes, thank you, Draco.’

She looked down at herself, noticing for the first time the sheet she was wearing, and wondered how she was going to get home dressed as she was. She had no money, no wand and as far as she was aware the only thing her rescuers had brought from Michael’s house was her toiletry bag.

‘How . . .’ Hermione started to say.

‘I’ll Apparate you,’ Draco explained. ‘You can’t go traipsing through the streets dressed like that.’

‘Oh, I don’t know. If I re-tie it perhaps people will think it’s a sari,’ Hermione said, trying to keep her mood light as she was aware she was on the edge of hysteria. She gave a small grin. ‘All I need is to shave my head, and with the bare feet they’ll think I’m a Hare Krishna.’

‘It’s quite clearly a sheet,’ Draco retorted, not knowing what a Hare Krishna was, but he smiled back at her.

‘How are you going to Apparate me? You don’t know where I live, do you?’ Hermione asked curiously.

‘I know the address of your flat,’ Draco replied matter-of-factly. ‘It was the first place we looked for you when you disappeared. Ron Weasley gave us your address as your abductor had changed it on the one record we had left for you. It appears he attempted to completely obliterate you from the Ministry’s records — not just at work, either, but throughout the wizarding world — trying to make sure you no longer existed, although fortunately, he didn’t quite have enough time to finish. Arthur Weasley and his team worked some extremely impressive magic and managed to retrieve some data, both for you and Antenucci. It was what finally put us on the right trail to track you down.’

Draco reached out to wrap his arm gently around Hermione’s waist, watching carefully to see if it caused an adverse reaction.

‘Am I all right to hold you like this?’ he enquired solicitously.

The idea that she was free of Michael and that awful house and was about to go home almost overwhelmed Hermione, but she was determined not to break down again. That would be too embarrassing.

She blinked back tears as she nodded. ‘I’d really like to go home now.’ She looked at Healer Brangbourne and smiled. ‘Thank you.’

He nodded and smiled back. ‘Take care, Miss Granger. I’m glad you were rescued without any serious injury. You may return to work whenever you feel ready, but you might want to consider taking a few days off first, to readjust and prepare yourself. Goodbye.’

 

 

* * *

 

 

Draco released Hermione as soon as they appeared in her lounge. He looked at her appraisingly, waiting to see if she was going to break down now that she was in her own home once more. She certainly looked upset enough for it.

‘I’m perfectly okay,’ she told him wryly once she realised he was studying her and waiting for her to explode or something. ‘My behaviour at the house was a reaction to what I was going through. Now I’m away from there and home again I’ll be fine.’

‘I will need to question you about what happened, but that can wait if you’re not feeling up to it just yet,’ Draco told her. ‘We can go to the Ministry once you’re ready . . . or I suppose we could do it here if you feel more comfortable.’

‘Was it you who rescued me?’ Hermione asked quietly, still trying to work out how this miracle had occurred. She had honestly thought she would be Michael’s prisoner forever.

Draco nodded. ‘Yes . . . well, me and my team. I don’t know if you remember them. You were rather out of it.’

Hermione shook her head. She didn’t really remember anything except finishing her shower, and then somehow miraculously she was free of that awful prison and in St Mungo’s.

‘I’m sorry for being in such a state when you found me,’ she whispered, feeling embarrassed.

‘It’s understandable considering what you’ve been through,’ Draco told her soothingly. ‘There’s no need to be embarrassed about it.’

He wondered for a moment whether Hermione realised that he had seen her naked, even if it was just curled up on the bed, but tried to put the thought out of his mind. He didn’t need her thinking he was a pervert . . . although she was absolutely lovely. She had been in her later years at school, he remembered, although she had been off-limits to him because of his views at the time; but since then it appeared she had really blossomed.

Hermione moved closer to Draco then, without a hint of what she was about to do, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him full on the lips. He was taken by surprise for a moment and debated whether he should push her away. He didn’t need her becoming fixated on him for rescuing her, nothing good could ever come of that. But the kiss was rather good and he was enjoying more than he should the knowledge that Hermione had kissed him.

He kissed her back.

As the kiss finished and Hermione pulled away, Draco realised she had tears on her cheeks. Panic rose within him that he had done something wrong and he silently cursed himself for being so stupid. She obviously thought he was trying to take advantage of her, the last thing she needed considering what she had probably been through with Antenucci.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked.

‘I’m sorry, Draco, I shouldn’t have kissed you,’ Hermione said contritely. She was blushing now. ‘I was just so grateful to you for saving me. I don’t know what came over me.’

Draco chuckled and he noticed his voice had got a little huskier. ‘Don’t worry about it. It’s nice to get a positive reaction for once. Extraction isn’t always so easy nor are the people so rational to deal with. Anyway, I’m the one who should be apologising not you, Hermione.’

‘I’m not sure I can be considered rational,’ Hermione said.

She was looking intently at Draco again. God, he looked good in those leathers. And he had tasted good, too.

Hermione was shocked to realise that despite what she had been through with Michael she was appraising Draco in terms of being a potential lover. She wasn’t entirely sure why she was considering such a thing — surely she should be shying away from any intimate contact with a man, especially one who had been her greatest enemy at school. But as shocking as it seemed she wanted Draco naked . . . inside her . . . and she didn’t care that until an hour or so ago she hadn’t seen him for over a decade. If anything it made her want him more. With a jolt of surprise she suddenly knew without a doubt that at that moment she wanted Draco more than she had ever wanted anything in her life.

For a few seconds she considered whether she could get Draco to hold her again by becoming upset. She was certain that if she played the little-girl-lost card Draco would step into the role she wanted him to play, even if it was just because it was his job, and it might allow her to keep him there for a while longer, long enough that she could admire him a bit more. But then she felt a tug of guilt at her possible duplicity and dropped the thought, forcing herself to accept that he was going to leave. He did have other work to do, after all.

Draco was still watching Hermione, wondering what she was thinking about. He knew he should go, should leave her alone to process what had happened to her and get over it in her own way, and he had lots of paperwork to do after the extraction, but he wasn’t ready to go just yet. She looked so fragile and scared, still swathed in that stupid sheet, and he longed to wrap his arms around her and hold her tight and assure her that she was safe, that he would never let anyone harm her again, especially that bastard who had turned a beautiful, confident woman into a nervous wreck.  

‘I should probably leave,’ he said, trying to keep his voice neutral. ‘You’ve been through enough and I expect you just want to get back to normality.’

Hermione looked panicked at his words. She had been trying to prepare herself for his leaving, believing it to be for the best, despite a little voice inside her mind that she was steadfastly attempting to ignore trying to convince her otherwise. But when he actually told her he was leaving it made her realise suddenly that while she wanted Draco to stay because she fancied him, she actually needed him to stay because she was completely and utterly terrified of being left there alone. He hadn’t mentioned anything to her about Michael being arrested and she didn’t think he had been at home when she was rescued, so as far as she was aware he was still out there somewhere — possibly at work in his new job, but maybe coming to steal her away again.

Although she had never told Michael her address, he had tampered with her personal records and would surely have found it through that. When he discovered she had escaped he would be furious with her, and determined to bring her back, he would be sure to come to her flat — as Draco had said, it was the first and most obvious place to look for her. The idea that she might end up back in that dark prison of a house, or somewhere equally bad, with no further chance of escape filled her with the sort of fear she had never before known she could experience.

Draco saw Hermione was shaking and a look of terror was plastered on her face. He quickly understood that her reaction was because he had suggested leaving. Without saying a word he pulled her into his arms again and gave her a big and, he hoped, reassuring hug.

‘I’m so scared,’ Hermione eventually admitted in a whisper as she continued to tremble in his arms.

‘There’s nothing to be scared of,’ Draco assured her, keeping his voice calm and authoritative.

‘But Michael—’ She was unable to say any more. Just the thought of the Italian man made her vocal chords seize up and tears spring into her eyes.

‘He’s not going to get anywhere near you, Hermione. He’ll be in prison by now. A team from DMLE went into his new workplace to seize him as soon as they knew you were safely in the hospital. He’s in Azkaban and you don’t have to worry, the Wizengamot won’t let him out, not after what he did to you.’

Draco stroked Hermione’s back soothingly and felt her slowly calming, although he was aware it was an extremely fragile peace.

‘I don’t want to be on my own,’ Hermione finally admitted. She was clinging to Draco as if her life depended on it.

She tried to imagine Michael in Azkaban but had trouble visualising it. He was so clever and so slippery that she didn’t believe he could be caught. And Draco didn’t know for certain that he had been captured. He could have escaped the Aurors and gone anywhere. He could make people disappear, had made her disappear easily enough. He could be waiting outside, waiting for Draco to leave her alone before dragging her off, and next time she might not be found. If he was angry enough with her there might be nothing left to find.

‘Please don’t leave me,’ she begged, her face pale and drawn. She was crying again and appeared to be able to do nothing to stop it.

Draco felt his heart beat faster as Hermione asked him to stay with her but reminded himself chidingly that it was because she was terrified, not because she wanted him. He remembered that he hadn’t told her about their plan to catch Antenucci. No wonder she was so scared; she probably thought the bastard was outside waiting to pounce once he left.

‘You really don’t have anything to fear,’ he said gently.

‘You don’t know that,’ Hermione retorted miserably. ‘You don’t know if they’ve caught him any more than I do.’

‘I trust our operatives to do their job properly,’ Draco told her seriously, pulling back to look at her. ‘We’ve been tracking him at his workplace for a few days now. We just had to find you and make sure we got you back safely before we took him down. I informed them personally when you were extracted, and the teams went off to get him straight away. That was a few hours ago so they’ll have definitely got him by now.’

Hermione’s face now held a hopeful expression but there was still too much fear in it for Draco’s liking. He wondered about the wisdom of staying, surely he should go back to the Ministry and get one of her friends to come and look after her instead. But he tried to imagine telling her he was going to leave and decided against it.

If someone else turned up he would relinquish Hermione to their care, but until then or until she felt safer he would stay. He could always use the time to question her about her stay with Antenucci, although that seemed a little callous considering how scared she was and knowing what the man had probably subjected her to. Perhaps he should just comfort her for a little while longer.

He wrapped his arms around her again, enjoying the feeling as she sank into him, trusting him completely.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was quite some time later that they finally parted. Hermione made them each a mug of tea, feeling safe enough to move to the kitchen on her own. While she was in there Draco debated whether to Apparate back to the Ministry to confirm that Antenucci had indeed been locked up, but decided against it. Hermione would freak if she came back into the lounge and he was gone; she would probably hear him Disapparate anyway.

He also needed to get her out of that sheet. He wanted to take it as evidence but he could hardly force Hermione out of it, especially if she was using it as an emotional crutch — although whilst he had been holding her he had, somewhat guiltily, imagined himself removing it and taking a rather leisurely look at her beautiful body as he did so.

Gods, he really had to stop thinking like that. Poor Hermione was recovering from one of the most terrifying experiences of her life and all he could do was think about was how much he wanted to take her to bed. He couldn’t even understand why he felt this way. It wasn’t as if he was starved of sex and Hermione was like a rain cloud on his drought. But something about her had stirred something deep inside him when he had rescued her and seen her in that awful place, and now he couldn’t seem to lock it away again. He wanted . . . oh gods, there was so much he wanted, but now really wasn’t the time.

Hermione had sat in a seat away from him on her return from the kitchen, which Draco assumed meant that she was feeling a little calmer and less scared. He was rather disappointed as he had enjoyed holding her, but he could hardly blame her for not wanting his touch after Antenucci. It was just a shame she was so bloody attractive.

‘I still need to question you about what happened, Hermione,’ he reminded her gently, watching her as she sipped her tea. ‘As I’m going to be staying for a while I thought perhaps we could start going through events. If you decide you want to stop because it’s too distressing or whatever, that’s fine, but we could at least make a start.’

Hermione considered this for a moment and nodded her head. ‘Okay. But I really need to have a shower. Would you mind if I had one first?’

‘That’s fine,’ Draco said, wishing his mind hadn’t immediately conjured a picture of her naked body followed straight after by the two of them sharing the shower. Hermione put her mug on the coffee table and stood, picking up her toiletry bag. He looked at her for a moment then said, ‘I need to take the sheet, Hermione. We need it for evidence.’

Ah yes, the sheet. Hermione remembered she was still wearing it. She had actually forgotten for a moment with her fear about Draco leaving, and being in St Mungo’s seemed like such a long time ago now although it was probably only a couple of hours. However hard she tried not to, she wasn’t able to stop enjoying the feeling of Draco holding her. Enjoying it too much, in fact.

She had escaped into the kitchen, not because she felt particularly safe — even now she was still worried that Michael was out there somewhere waiting for her — but because she found herself highly aroused by Draco’s touch and was desperate for him not to realise, which would have been far too easy through a thin sheet. That would be really embarrassing and might even make him leave, and she definitely didn’t want that to happen for more reasons than she wanted to think about.

Draco telling her he wanted the sheet immediately set a train of thought in motion that Hermione had to stop. There was no way he was going to take it off her even if she asked him to — which she never would, she added hurriedly — even though a tiny and very wicked part of her brain was trying to convince her that there might be some interest there. He had kissed her in return, after all, it was saying, but Hermione knew that didn’t mean anything. He was probably just being polite after she so brazenly attacked him, too worried about her mental state to pull away in case she crumbled completely.

_But what if there is something there?_ the little voice persisted. _Wouldn’t you feel safer with Draco in your bed tonight than sleeping alone?_

Hermione resisted the urge to argue with herself knowing there was nothing she could do about it anyway.

_Ah, but there is something you can do, if you have the guts,_ the voice taunted. _And if worst comes to worst you can always pretend you’re mentally unstable after your ordeal. You can apologise and Draco will accept it because he’ll be too embarrassed to do anything else._

Hermione bit her lip. What she was considering was completely wrong, she knew that, and yet she was still thinking about it anyway. What the hell was this thing between her and Draco? And why did she feel this way after what she had been through with Michael? Was it purely a need to get him out of her system, to distance herself from him sexually, and Draco just happened to be first on the scene? It couldn’t be anything else, surely.

She smiled at Draco. ‘Of course,’ she said demurely, and she pulled the sheet off, throwing it towards him as she walked slowly out of the lounge and headed for the bathroom.

Her heart was beating like a drum. She couldn’t believe she had really just done that. Oh good god, what was Draco going to think of her? Hermione hurriedly locked herself away in the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was flaming scarlet and she was beginning to shake again.

She opened the toiletry bag and rummaged inside until she found her contraceptive pills. Thank God they were still there, that was a bit of normality, at least. She popped one out of the foil container and swallowed it with water from the tap, then she turned on the shower, turning it up as hot as she could stand, and stepped in.

As the water cascaded over her Hermione thought about Draco. He was incredibly handsome and she had to admit there was something about him rescuing her that was undeniably attractive too, even if he was only doing his job. But why this sudden uncontrollable rush of desire for him? She had always hated him at school, had always detested his stupid Pure-blood ideals, and he had felt the same way about her, calling her loathsome names for being Muggle-born. There had never been any attraction between them so it was completely ridiculous that Draco Malfoy was suddenly her ideal man. It just wasn’t possible.

But the fact was that however impossible or ridiculous it was, Hermione wanted Draco. Okay, she could admit that he had been good-looking at school, although very much not her type . . . definitely not. And it did seem strange that apart from Ron, who she actually had fancied, Draco was the only person she really argued with — but that was only because he picked on her because she was friends with Harry and Ron, who he also detested not because of anything more . . . well, just more. He was intelligent and good at magic, that she would admit, too, but that didn’t mean she had fancied him. She hadn’t . . . she was sure she hadn’t.   

Hermione shut off the water and got out of the bath, wrapping herself in a large, fluffy peach-coloured bath sheet. She wrapped a smaller towel around her head. She climbed back into the bath, intending to open the window to let the steam out of the small room but as she reached out for it, she stopped, all at once trembling and scared. Her stomach twisted anxiously, making her feel sick, and her limbs shook, threatening to lose control.

She dropped her arm and climbed out of the bath, shaking and tearful, and left the room as rapidly as possible, feeling stupid at her sudden panic attack. It was pathetic. Michael wasn’t going to be on the ledge outside that small window waiting to grab her as she opened it.

But Hermione knew her fear went deeper than that. She was worried that if she opened the window he would see it and know she was in the flat. She was just as trapped here as she had been at his house: too scared to leave in case he grabbed her, but terrified to stay for the same reason. She was a mess, and stupid to boot because of what she had done with Draco. She needed to calm herself down, get dressed, and then go and answer Draco’s questions as quickly and professionally as possible so he could leave, all the while pretending that nothing had happened — that she hadn’t just flashed herself at him and that she hadn’t had a major panic attack when she was away from him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Draco had to force himself to stay seated when Hermione removed the sheet. Her giving him another all too brief but extremely alluring glimpse of her fantastic body was enough to have him imagining them both in the shower again and it took every ounce of his willpower to stop himself from going to join her.

Hermione was definitely acting strangely. Obviously, she could be forgiven for that because of the ordeal she had suffered, but that didn’t mean he could take advantage of her. There were more reasons than just the abduction that meant he shouldn’t even be considering this, reasons that should make him feel guilty because he was even thinking about it.

The truth was that Hermione had awoken something in him he hadn’t realised was there, and he suspected that however much he tried to ignore it, it wasn’t going to go away. He wanted Hermione . . . wanted to be inside her . . . and nothing he tried to think about instead could quell that desire.

He tried to think back to when he was at school. Had there been that same attraction? He didn’t think there had been, although his main reason for disliking her had been her blood status. She was beautiful, after the Yule Ball at least. Before that she had looked a bit like a beaver with her overlarge front teeth and her frizzy brown hair. And they had argued constantly. Although actually, when he thought about it, Hermione was the only person he ever argued with — so maybe there was something else going on there after all.

As Draco waited for Hermione to come back he wondered what she would be wearing when she did. It was too much to hope that she might still be naked, but he put in a silent plea that she wouldn’t completely cover herself up. Was she embarrassed about what she had done? He hoped not. She was absolutely gorgeous and had nothing to be embarrassed about. She could flash him her naked body as much as she liked and he wouldn’t complain.

He looked at his watch. His shift had finished almost an hour ago but he didn’t care. He would stay with Hermione until she wanted him to leave or until his next shift started, whichever was earlier. He would use the time to question her, although he wasn’t entirely sure whether she would be able to talk about what had happened to her. But it made sense for them to start as soon as possible, before she started compartmentalising and hiding away in her memory what had happened, trying to forget the awful things she had been subjected to.

Yes, he would question her and then no one would be able to say he didn’t have a valid reason for being there.

 

 

* * *

 

 

While she dried herself Hermione debated what to wear. There was no way she was going naked again — she had already embarrassed herself enough with the sheet stunt — but it seemed a bit churlish to get fully dressed, as if brushing off what she had done as trite. In the end she chose pajamas, judging them to be safe . . . and comfortable. She didn’t bother with her hair. It would explode when it dried but she didn’t intend to go anywhere and it wasn’t going to look much better after she had slept on it, so she would wait until tomorrow to sort it out as it wasn’t a two-minute job.

Then she wondered whether she should she go back to work in the morning. She felt okay at the moment except for the whole Michael thing . . . and the whole Draco thing, too . . . but she wasn’t sure she was ready for the incessant questions that would come her way from work colleagues. Did they know what had happened to her? God, it would be really embarrassing if they did.  

The thought of questions made her think of Draco again. She didn’t really want to talk to him about Michael and what he had done to her, that was going to be extremely humiliating in some parts. But she had to get it out of the way so she could attempt to try to forget what had happened and she needed to make sure she did it properly, not trying to skip past or paint over the bad bits. If her statement was going to be used at the Wizengamot trial then she needed to make sure it wasn’t easy to tear apart. She didn’t want there to be any chance that what she said could be used to help Michael escape from prison.

‘Do you want another cup of tea before we start the questioning?’ she asked Draco as she re-entered the lounge.

She wasn’t looking at him this time as she was still embarrassed at what she had done with the sheet. She noticed he had folded it up neatly and placed it on the arm of the sofa while he was waiting.

‘That would be good,’ Draco replied.

He was looking at Hermione’s pyjamas. She obviously had no intention of going to the Ministry for the questioning. Part of him was a little disappointed she was wearing them rather than something a little more revealing, although they made her look even more adorably vulnerable and more in need of his protection than ever. They did have potential, though. There was a nice row of buttons on the jacket that could quite easily be undone, for starters.

‘Actually, before we start I think I need to leave for a short while,’ Draco admitted seriously, trying to wrest his mind back to business rather than Hermione’s naked body. He saw her look panicked again and said more soothingly, ‘I want to go to the Ministry to make sure that Antenucci was apprehended — it will put your mind at rest if you know for sure that he’s locked away. I also want to get some food. I don’t know what, if anything, you’ve had to eat today, but I’ve had nothing since breakfast and to be honest, Hermione, I’m bloody starving. I’m guessing that you haven’t got anything worth eating here. You can come with me with if you want, otherwise I’ll be gone for no longer than half an hour, maybe forty minutes at most.’

‘But what if he hasn’t been caught?’ Hermione whispered worriedly. Her stomach swirled uncomfortably at the thought of being left alone for even one minute, let alone forty.

‘I’m certain he has. I’m sure someone would have come to tell me by now otherwise. They know where I am. Do you want to come along? I can wait for you to get dressed.’

Hermione shook her head miserably. She wasn’t ready to leave her flat, certainly not for the noisy Ministry of Magic where she might bump into people who wanted the gossip about where she had been. And she looked a complete fright without any makeup and with the exploding hair. She thought for a moment of Harry and Ron. She should go and see them even if just to let them know she was okay, but she couldn’t face them and their recriminations and sympathy at the moment, either.

Draco considered for a moment, then said, ‘Look, Hermione, I hesitate to suggest this, especially in light of what happened to you before, but if you really don’t want to come with me then I could place wards on your flat to stop anyone getting in or out. I know you would be trapped in here alone, but no one would be able to get anywhere near you until I remove the charm. What do you think?’

For a moment the idea of being trapped again terrified Hermione, but with some difficulty she threw off her panic. It was better than being alone and not having any protection, and she really couldn’t face going to the Ministry and all that would entail.

‘All right,’ she agreed, her voice small. ‘But you promise you won’t be any longer than forty minutes?’

‘I promise,’ Draco replied sincerely. ‘Is there anything particular you want to eat?’ He thought for a moment and then added, ‘Do you want me to get Weasley or Potter to come and see you?’

Draco’s heart thudded harder as Hermione shook her head.

‘Not really. I don’t think I’m ready to see anyone else just yet,’ Hermione said quietly.

She looked apologetically at Draco, knowing that she was stopping him from leaving her by refusing to allow her friends to come over, but she really wasn’t ready — to see them or to lose him.

Draco guiltily pushed down the feeling of pleasure that flooded him at the knowledge that Hermione didn’t want to see her friends, just him.

‘Oh, and I don’t mind what you get to eat because I don’t feel that hungry,’ Hermione told him as she remembered the other part of his question.

‘That’s because you’re still suffering from shock,’ Draco said, then he smiled. ‘I bet you change your mind when you smell it.’

‘Maybe,’ Hermione said, not sounding convinced.

‘You’ll see.’ Draco took hold of her hand and squeezed it before letting go again. ‘Don’t look so scared, Hermione. You’ll be fine on your own and it’ll be worth it to know for definite that the bastard’s in prison, won’t it?’

Hermione gave a small nod. She really did need to know one way or another otherwise she would never feel safe. She was aware that Draco couldn’t stay with her forever, however nice the idea of that seemed right now. She watched as he waved his wand and began to cast charms, speaking so quietly that Hermione couldn’t hear him. It was strange that despite everything that had happened between them in the past she trusted him implicitly and knew that whatever he was doing was to keep her safe. When he finished he gave her a wink.

‘So that’s all done, now I need to go. No more than forty minutes, though,’ Draco promised again.

‘Draco, can you see if they found my wand, please?’ Hermione said. ‘Michael took it away from me while I was sleeping and I’ve no idea what happened to it.’

Draco agreed that he would see what he could do, then left Hermione in the lounge while he made his way to the front door. Once outside, he turned back to cast the final spell which would stop anyone from entering through the front door. Hermione was completely trapped and should hopefully, feel safer. Now he just needed to Apparate to the Ministry and then go to get food. He quite fancied Chinese food for a change. His stomach rumbled at the thought.

‘Is Hermione all right?’

Draco was shocked by the unexpected voice and turned to see an old woman dressed in a long purple robe who had to have been well over one hundred years old by the look of her, staring at him inquisitively with astonishingly bright blue eyes.

‘It’s just that she hasn’t been around for a few weeks and I was worried about her,’ the old woman continued as if she hadn’t surprised him.

Draco smiled. ‘She’s fine. She’s been away for a little while but she’s back now.’

The old woman nodded and looked towards Hermione’s front door. Draco was suddenly certain that the woman had seen him casting the spell on it.

‘You might want to leave it a day or so before you see her,’ Draco confided. ‘She’s not feeling great at the moment so she needs some rest.’

The old woman looked concerned. ‘It’s nothing serious, I hope?’

‘No, she’s fine, honestly. She just needs some rest.’

‘Well, if she needs anything tell her to ask me. Especially if she can’t get out,’ the old woman said.

‘I will, thank you. That’s very kind of you. Now I’m afraid I really have to go,’ Draco told her.

‘Hermione’s a lovely girl,’ the old woman said. She studied Draco intently as if she was examining him. ‘Are you Hermione’s boyfriend?’

Draco shook his head. ‘Just an old school friend, I’m afraid.’

The old woman sighed. ‘That’s a shame. Hermione could do with a boyfriend. She spends far too much time alone when she’s not working. And you would make such a good couple.’

Draco shook his head and said deprecatingly, ‘I don’t think Hermione would be interested in me. I’m not sure I’m her type.’

‘You’re handsome and obviously kind, and you care about Hermione, so what more does she need?’ the old woman asked bluntly.

A little embarrassed now, Draco said apologetically, ‘Look I’m sorry, I really do have to go. I’m on rather a tight schedule.’

‘Of course you do, dear. But I really do think you should give consideration to making Hermione your girlfriend.’ Draco noticed the old woman had a glint in her eye.

_Believe me, I would if I could_ , was Draco’s last thought as he waved at her, then Disapparated.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Hermione spent the first ten minutes after Draco left sitting on the sofa and panicking that any minute Michael would burst through the door and spirit her away, assuming he didn’t just kill her for escaping from him. It was completely irrational and she knew she should just go and check the front door — if the door didn’t open she was safe and Draco had cast the spell properly. The thing was, she was terrified to try it in case the door opened, and Hermione was certain that if the door opened Michael would be on the other side of it, waiting for her.

She spent another ten minutes fretting about it, then forced herself to walk to the front door. Hermione felt vulnerable without her wand but she had to conquer this stupid, irrational fear. Another few minutes followed as Hermione stared at the inside of the front door, not quite able to reach out and touch it, but eventually she mustered enough courage.

She put out her hand and grabbed the latch almost as if she expected it to bite or something. She took a couple of deep breaths to steady herself, sent a quick wish into the atmosphere, and turned the latch. It moved and Hermione’s heart sank, her stomach roiling uncontrollably as she fought to stop herself throwing up. Draco hadn’t cast the spell correctly. He had left her vulnerable and open to attack.

Immediately, Hermione wondered whether Draco was in league with Michael. He had always hated her, hadn’t he, so perhaps he hadn’t changed as much as she thought. She only had his word for it that he worked as an Extractor, and even if he did that wouldn’t preclude the possibility of his being Michael’s accomplice. Michael had worked in the Department of Mysteries and could easily have come into contact with Draco.

Knowing the blond man’s long-time hatred of her he would probably have been happy to help, Hermione thought bitterly. It would be the perfect way for them to extend her torture — to make her think she had been rescued and freed when in reality she was just being given a brief break before being plunged back into desolation and God only knew what punishments for running away. Hermione could feel a wail of despair building in her throat, but convinced that Michael was outside the door, she forced herself to remain silent.

But why would Draco do this to her? And why would he have taken her to St Mungo’s to be checked out if he was Michael’s accomplice? Healer Brangbourne would be able to recognise him easily enough, and unless Michael had done something to Draco’s records too, he would soon be caught and questioned. Surely his hatred of her at school wasn’t enough to set him on this path, was it? And if that were the case, then why had he kissed her back when she kissed him?

Perhaps Michael had told him to do it, was testing her to see if she was as loyal to him as she had always professed to be. If so, she had failed that test miserably and would no doubt be severely punished for her disloyalty. She could feel her legs giving way, the urge to slide down the door and curl up miserably and sob almost overwhelming her.

At that moment the rational part of her brain took charge. Still holding the latch, she pulled the door open. Except it didn’t open. Although the latch itself moved, the door was completely unmoving.

Hermione released a great sob of relief. Shakily she let go of the door as adrenalin pumped through her veins, making her feel light-headed and dizzy. Draco hadn’t betrayed her after all, he wasn’t working with Michael to make her life worse. He really was her saviour. She staggered back into the lounge and fell onto the sofa, sobbing uncontrollably. She had just about managed to get herself back under control when Draco walked through the door holding two carrier bags, one of which contained stacked boxes.

‘Sorry I’m a few minutes late. I had to wait for the food. It was quite busy in there tonight.’

Hermione launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around him as she kissed him, catching his jaw the first time, then his mouth on the second attempt.

Draco waited, somewhat stunned by the reception. He dropped the bags onto the coffee table and wrapped his arms around Hermione. She was shaking again and he had absolutely no idea why. Had something happened to scare her while he was away? He couldn’t think what could have happened as Antenucci was definitely languishing in Azkaban prison. Draco had seen the commitment papers and talked to the people who had arrested him. No wonder Hermione was so scared of him; he was a complete basket case and totally obsessed with her, from what the Aurors had told him.

‘What’s happened?’ Draco asked worriedly.

Hermione gave what could have been a sob and pulled away from him, looking guilty.

‘I thought you were Michael’s accomplice,’ she admitted quietly.

Draco stared at her in shock. ‘What? What the hell made you think that, Hermione?’

She shook her head sadly. ‘I was so scared being left here. I was sure Michael was going to attack. It took me ages to pluck up the courage to check the door. Then I turned the latch and it moved. I thought you had deliberately left the door open so Michael could get me. I thought you were working with him.’

‘But you saw me doing the spells,’ Draco pointed out. Then he began to panic. Had he done the spells wrong, if the door had opened?

‘I know, but I couldn’t hear what you were saying. You could have been doing anything. I was devastated, but then I actually tried to open the door and it was stuck fast. I have never been so relieved in my life,’ Hermione admitted. ‘I’m so sorry for doubting you, Draco.’

‘Don’t worry about it. I know you’re scared but I can assure you that I am not working with or for that psycho,’ Draco told her softly. ‘And I checked: he is definitely in Azkaban. I talked directly to the Aurors who took him over there to confirm it was him.’

‘But it might not be Michael,’ Hermione said, unable to drop her fear. ‘You know he uses fake identities — he might have got someone else arrested in his place. He might have disappeared again and be waiting to pop back up once it goes quiet.’

Draco took hold of Hermione’s hands and held them gently.

‘It was definitely him, Hermione. They confirmed the description given by Potter and Weasley when you first went missing. Anyway, one of the Aurors told me that the only thing Antenucci’s willing to talk about is you. He won’t answer any of their questions, just asks for you to go and see him.’

Hermione shuddered. She didn’t want to see Michael ever again and she certainly didn’t want to go and visit him in Azkaban.

‘It’s over, Hermione,’ Draco said. ‘Now can we get some plates, please? I’m bloody starving and the food will go cold if we leave it.’

Hermione nodded and went to the kitchen to get plates and cutlery. She felt stupid now for doubting Draco and wished she hadn’t told him that she had suspected him. He probably hated her again now.

‘Can you bring glasses as well? I bought some wine so we could celebrate,’ Draco shouted from the lounge.

A few minutes later Hermione put the items on the coffee table.

‘Do you want me to get you a tray?’ she asked as Draco, having opened the bottle with his wand, poured the wine into the glasses.

He shook his head. ‘I’m happy sitting on the floor at the coffee table if you are.’

Draco put the wine bottle in the middle of the table and began pulling the various plastic boxes from the other carrier bag.

‘I didn’t know what you wanted so I got a variety of stuff. Help yourself to as much as you want.’

Hermione still felt sick, but the smell of the Chinese food was making her stomach rumble. She actually was hungry. Sitting down, she helped Draco remove the lids of the boxes before beginning to spoon her choices onto one of the plates, asking Draco a couple of times what the dishes were. Once they had both filled their plates and Draco had joined her on the floor he held up his wine glass in a toast.

‘To your escape and to that bastard rotting in Azkaban forever,’ Draco said seriously.

‘And to you for rescuing me,’ Hermione said with a small smile.

Draco smiled back.

They clinked glasses and drank.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Draco left her eventually, but it really didn’t matter because by that time Hermione understood that Michael wasn’t going to suddenly pop up and make her life a misery. He really was in Azkaban and she really was safe, just as Draco had told her she was. She would have preferred him to stay, would have happily shared her bed with him all night, but he told her he needed to go home, needed to get some sleep before his next shift started, and he was certain he wouldn’t get any if he stayed with her.

Hermione knew that he had a lot of work to do in relation to her case, especially as he had spent all afternoon calming her stupid and irrational fears instead of doing his work, and he promised to come and see her the following day which gave her something to look forward to, especially as she had decided not to go into work. She needed some time to prepare for that, another day wasn’t going to hurt.

Draco might not be an Italian stallion, thank God, but he was completely wonderful. She was already looking forward to spending more time with him, especially if she could convince him into bed — and she was pretty certain she could.  As she lay there smiling and, she had to admit it, feeling much happier than she had any right to be considering what Michael had put her through, Hermione thought about the evening she had just shared with Draco.

There was definitely something between them, something that went far deeper than her rescue and the possible need to distance herself from Michael, that maybe even went as far back as their schooldays. She was now prepared to concede it was possible, because otherwise how could she explain the depth of her feeling for Draco? When he touched her it was the most perfect thing in the world, as if it had always been meant to be.  

They had never actually got round to the questioning Draco intended to do, at least not officially. Instead, they finished their meal and moved from the floor to the sofa. Hermione felt the need to be close to Draco, which it seemed he wasn’t at all unhappy about. They sat drinking the rest of the wine as Draco told her all he knew about Michael’s capture and subsequent incarceration, including all the work the Ministry had done to track him down and find out where he was keeping Hermione.

Unfortunately, he also had to admit that although they had found some of her clothes and her handbag, which were being kept for the time being as evidence, they had found no trace of Hermione’s wand. It had probably been destroyed and she would need to buy a new one. She was surprised at just how upset she felt about that; although she had only had the wand for a few years she hadn’t realised how attached to it she had become. She would need to schedule a visit to Diagon Alley as soon as possible to go and visit Mr Ollivander. She couldn’t function without her wand. It was part of her magic. 

‘Oh, that reminds me, I saw your neighbour on the way out. She told me to tell you that if there’s anything you need, just ask her,’ Draco said.

‘What, Mrs Hamblin?’ Hermione asked interestedly.

Draco shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea what her name is but she’s got to be several hundred years old.’

‘She’s one hundred and thirty-seven and she’s a really lovely woman, actually.’ Hermione berated. She frowned. ‘Did you tell her what happened to me?’

Draco shook his head. ‘No. I told her you’d been away and weren’t feeling too good at the moment. I said you needed a couple of days’ rest and then you’d be as good as new.’

‘I’m sure she’ll come to see me at some point. She’ll probably bring a cake she’s made, she normally does,’ Hermione said fondly.

‘She thinks you need a boyfriend,’ Draco said. ‘So I’m guessing she didn’t know about Antenucci.’

Hermione shook her head. ‘I didn’t tell Michael where I lived because we were just at the start of our relationship and hadn’t really got that far. The weekend he abducted me was the first time we . . . well, you know. The original plan was just to go out for dinner on Friday night and we had a really lovely time. When he asked me to stay the night I said yes.

‘It was a spur of the moment thing. If he hadn’t forced me to stay with him I would have told him where I lived and brought him back here, but he didn’t give me that chance. Once I said yes he released me long enough to get some clothes and my toiletries because I was being a bit OCD about my toothbrush. I met him back at the restaurant and he Apparated us to his house.’ She made a disgusted sound. ‘I suppose I should have realised what he was like then as he was so cagey about where he lived, but I didn’t think about it at the time. I was just eager to spend more time with him. God, I was such an idiot.’

She remembered the dark and gloomy house and shuddered. It was strange how she had found all the darkness and candles romantic and sexy when she had first arrived. In reality it was just creepy.

Draco stroked Hermione’s hand gently.

‘You do know this isn’t your fault, don’t you, Hermione?’ he asked, his voice soft.

Hermione shrugged and looked morose. ‘It was my fault that I said yes. Ron kept telling me he was a stalker and that I shouldn’t trust him, but to be honest I thought that was just Ron being Ron. He’s never liked any of my boyfriends. I think he’s a bit overprotective of me, especially now that Harry and Ginny are married and he doesn’t have to look out for her any longer.’

‘I always thought you and Weasley had a bit of a thing going,’ Draco said, trying to sound casual.

Hermione shook her head. ‘Not really. I fancied him like mad at school. That’s why I said yes to going to the Yule Ball with Viktor. I was hoping it would make Ron realise what he was missing out on. Well, that and the fact that Ron didn’t actually get round to asking me until it was too late. It was like I was an afterthought, and I didn’t like that at all.

‘I knew he was jealous of Viktor — he went out of his way to completely ruin my evening, and I thought that would be it — that we would finally be a couple. But no, he proceeded to ignore me for the next year, then went out with Lavender. I was so smitten with him that I took that really hard. It really hurt that he chose her over me.

‘We did get together eventually . . . at the Battle of Hogwarts, of all places. I guess it was all that death and destruction that made him finally realise that I was more than just good old Hermione. It didn’t last long, though. I tried, I really did, but after a year I admitted to myself that I was flogging a dead horse. Ron was never into me the way I was him so I gave up and we’ve just been mates ever since. To be honest, it’s better this way. He was a lousy boyfriend.’

‘Antenucci is very handsome,’ Draco said carefully. ‘I can understand why you would be attracted to him.’

‘He wasn’t just handsome, he was nice too,’ Hermione stated a touch wistfully. ‘He was thoughtful and kind and all those things I wanted in a boyfriend. Although he was a little bit odd I put that down to where he worked and the fact that he was quite shy with people he didn’t know well. He didn’t even get annoyed or act funny when I purposely slowed things down between us because I wanted to get to know him better first. He should have been perfect . . . .’

‘Except for being a psychopathic stalker,’ Draco interjected.

Hermione gave him a wan smile. ‘That was a downside I hadn’t anticipated, I’ll admit.’

There was an uncomfortable silence between them for several minutes as it seemed both of them were trying to think what to say next. Eventually, Hermione was the one who broke it.

‘I don’t think I’m going to go into work tomorrow,’ she told him, needing to change the subject. She was finding discussing boyfriends rather disheartening, especially with the most handsome man she had ever met sitting less than a foot away from her. ‘I’m not sure I’m ready to go back yet. Do you think that’s okay?’

Draco smiled. He was still stroking her hand, his thumb rubbing the pad of hers, and she found it rather enjoyable and strangely soothing.

‘I think you need to do what’s best for you, Hermione. There’s no point in going back if it’s going to upset you, but you mustn’t lock yourself away for too long, either. It’s important to get back to normality.’

Hermione bit her lip as she thought. ‘I think I just need another day to get my head round everything and get back into a normal pattern. It was really disorientating being stuck in darkness all the time, not knowing whether it was day or night or what day of the week it was.’

‘I can imagine that would be difficult,’ Draco said sympathetically. ‘Are you tired? Do you need to sleep?’

Hermione didn’t need to sleep. If anything she felt more wide awake than she had done all day. But her need for Draco was growing with every minute they spent together, and his stroking was doing all sorts of things to her that she had been trying very hard to ignore.

She snuggled closer to Draco, looking at him intently.

‘Will you stay with me?’ she whispered.

She held her breath as she waited for Draco’s response, praying he wouldn’t say no, that the interest she was sure was there was real and not imagined. She didn’t need to embarrass herself any more than she already had.

Draco’s heart pounded at her question. His immediate thought was to say yes; to pull her to him and kiss her again, kiss her properly before carrying her off to the bedroom. But he couldn’t do it. He had responsibilities, and taking advantage of Hermione when she was still emotionally fragile wasn’t one of them.

‘Hermione, I don’t think you know what you’re asking,’ he told her, trying to stay rational. ‘You’re in shock after what happened and—’

Hermione cut him off with a soft kiss.

It started out as a peck, but soon grew until Draco was holding her in his arms and she was holding him just as tightly. Desire flared in Draco and he realised that he had wanted this, not just today but for years — had wanted this back at school when he was supposed to have hated her because she was Muggle-born not Pure-blood like him.

He had hated her best friend Potter because he was apparently the ‘Chosen One’, the stupid famous idiot who had no skill, talent or charisma but triumphed all the time because of better friends and sheer dumb luck. He had hated Weasley, too, for being a blood-traitor, although now Draco realized the real reason he had hated him was because Hermione had been in love with him. Draco had said he hated Hermione and had spent so many years convincing himself of that it had almost felt like he really did hate her. But now Draco could see that he had always wanted her, had always hoped that something would happen to force them together. That was what all the fighting was about. If they were fighting they were together, even if not intimately, and at least she took notice of him.

He knew he should stop this, should force Hermione to see that she was acting rashly because of some ill-conceived need to shake off what Antenucci had done to her, but by Merlin he didn’t want to. What he wanted was to keep kissing her, and not just her soft, wonderful-tasting mouth but all of her, every inch of that magnificent body that he couldn’t stop visualising however hard he tried. This was wrong, so very wrong, but it was exactly what he had always wanted. 

‘If you don’t move away from me now I’m going to undo all the buttons on your pyjamas,’ Draco warned as he stopped kissing her for a moment.

Hermione responded by kissing him again, not moving away as he had half expected her to, and Draco knew the future was set. This was meant to happen — he and Hermione were destined to be together regardless of anything that had gone before and anything that might stand in their way in the future — and there was likely to be plenty of that, unfortunately.

But right now there was nothing to stop them. There was just them, and Hermione’s bed was just down the hall and seemed more inviting all the time. Draco scooped Hermione up and carried her from the lounge, hurriedly making his way to the bedroom. He released her in front of the bed.

‘Last chance to get rid of me,’ he said softly.

Hermione grabbed him for another kiss and Draco took full part in it. His hands began to move, unbuttoning her pyjama top as promised and pulling it off her. He was caressing her soft skin and his heart beat so fast he thought it would burst. She felt so good that he wanted to be able to touch her everywhere at once, overwhelmed by the taste of her warm skin as his mouth moved from her lips to search out even more interesting areas of her body.

‘Why do you wear leather?’ Hermione asked as she tried to get to grips with Draco’s clothes. She wanted to see him naked so badly it hurt. ‘Doesn’t it make you hot?’ She giggled, then said, ‘I mean, you are hot, but I mean temperature hot.’

Draco’s heart soared at the thought that Hermione thought him hot. That was great because he was seriously convinced she was a goddess.

‘It’s protective and hard-wearing,’ Draco explained. ‘We don’t wear it when we’re in the office. Then we just wear normal robes. But when we’re out on a job we need something that’s going to stand up to whatever we do. It can get pretty rough out there sometimes.’

Hermione ran her hand down Draco’s naked chest, her fingers brushing through the few blond hairs.

‘Not too dangerous, I hope,’ she whispered as her mouth found his again.

Draco wasn’t sure what to say. Extraction was the dirty end of the Ministry’s Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It was hard to get into and even harder to stay in as the incidence of serious injury and even death were pretty high. Draco had been lucky so far, but even he hadn’t come away without his share of scars, the most serious of which Hermione had now found and was examining, using her beautiful soft lips to kiss it better.

She was adorable and he needed to make love to her right now, if only to stop her questioning him about his job. He couldn’t talk to her about it, he wasn’t allowed to, but even if he could he didn’t want her knowing how dangerous some of the things he did was in case it made her change her mind about him. He moved her closer to the bed and then they were laying on it, both of them naked and both of them supremely aroused. There was more kissing, a lot more, and a lot of exploring, too, all of which was extremely pleasurable. There was something about the way they moved together, so easily, as if they had been specially made to be a couple, as if they fitted in a way that no one else ever could. It was perfect and in a few seconds could only get more so as they finally became one after so many years of building up to this moment.

Draco hesitated. There was still a little part of him that thought this was wrong, that he should stop and leave before things got way too serious. This was going to change everything and he wasn’t sure it was a good idea. But surely Hermione understood this, too, and was prepared for it to happen. With her by his side they could weather anything, probably.

Hermione was a little worried. Everything had seemed to be going so well between her and Draco, but just when they got to the important bit he seemed to be having second thoughts. Did he not want her after all? Had she done something wrong? She didn’t think she had because everything had seemed perfect so far. Maybe he was still just worried about her. Well, she could reassure him on that.

‘Please don’t tease,’ she whispered as she gazed into his eyes, moving her body a little to give the hint.

Whatever spell Draco was under was broken at her words, and without another thought he gave himself to Hermione completely, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that he was totally and utterly in love with her and always would be. Hermione was his soul mate and everything was absolutely perfect with her in a way that it could never be with anyone else.

Their lovemaking was divine, which Hermione meant in the angelic, godlike sense of the word rather than just extremely pleasurable — although it had been that, too. And she was convinced that Draco felt the same way. There was no awkwardness between them, hadn’t been even when they had first touched properly. It was as if it was always meant to happen eventually, and today the universe had been restored to its proper order.


	3. Chapter 3

Draco sighed as he Apparated into the hallway of his home. He really wished he could have stayed with Hermione all night but there was just no way he could manage it. Staying as late as he had was going to have serious consequences that he wasn’t looking forward to. Anyway, he had an early start in the morning and really needed to recharge his batteries.

Even without the absolutely perfect lovemaking the day had been long, hard, and stressful — and tomorrow promised to be the same, although he did at least have more time with Hermione to look forward to. If he had stayed with her tonight he was sure he would have got no sleep at all; he wouldn’t want to miss a single minute of being with her. As far as he was concerned, every second was precious.

He had the urge to just flop into bed but knew he was never going to get away with that. He had to show his face, at least, although hopefully that would be all he would need to do. He removed his jacket and hung it on a coat hook, then looked at himself in the mirror next to it. He looked completely knackered, although fortunately it wasn’t obvious that sex had been involved.

Draco took a deep breath and made his way into the lounge, feeling his heart sinking as he did so. The room was empty, although only recently so, he suspected. He walked on, heading through the door into the large open plan dining area which led into the expansive kitchen. He stopped and silently watched the tall, thin, blonde-haired woman who was using her wand to clean the room, trying to determine what his feelings for her were although he already knew. He didn’t love her and he wasn’t sure now whether he ever had.

Another of his sighs had the woman turning from what she was doing. She looked at him critically and wrinkled her nose a little at his dishevelled appearance. Then, with a sigh of her own, she moved to give him a hug. Draco stood stiffly, not wanting to hug her back and hoping that she would just think it was because he was dirty, although the real reason was that he didn’t want her touching him after Hermione had.

Unfortunately, she refused to give in and waited patiently for him to hold her back. However bad things got between them, and over the years had they had got pretty bad in places, they had always hugged each other — the one thing they would both do without complaint. Draco draped his arms around her loosely, feeling that somehow he was cheating on Hermione by doing this. Which was ridiculous when Caro, not Hermione, was his wife, however much he wished otherwise.

Caro released him and moved back to flicking her wand, although she still stared at Draco.

‘So what’s the matter with you?’ she asked coldly.

She knew something was wrong. Draco always hugged her, if nothing else, and yet this evening he was reluctant. She looked back at him appraisingly, wondering if he had been injured. That was always a possibility with the job he did. Over the years she’d had to deal with several of them and it never got any easier. She still had no idea why someone with as much money, looks, and brains as Draco felt he had to work in such a dangerous job.

Although she had never admitted it to anyone she was eternally waiting for the day when she got the visit informing her that her husband was dead. It could only be a matter of time, seeing the way the department ran through personnel. It was a stressful life, and most of the time she couldn’t for the life of her remember why she had been stupid enough to think she would be able to deal with it. It made her resent him, which wasn’t the greatest basis for a successful marriage.

‘You’re very late.’ She flicked her wand towards a stack of plates which shuddered worryingly before flying through the air and into a cupboard whose door she had opened only seconds before. ‘I mean, Merlin knows you’ve never been the best at coming home in the evening, Draco, but this is a new low even for you. It’s almost midnight.’

‘I’m aware it’s late, Caro, but I’ve been busy with work,’ Draco snapped, trying to keep his steadily rising temper from erupting. The one thing his wife could always do effortlessly was annoy him, and the last thing he needed tonight was another of their arguments.

‘Are you hurt?’ she asked. She didn’t sound particularly interested, apart from the inconvenience it would cause.

Draco shook his head. ‘No. I’m just knackered.’

‘Do you want a drink?’ Caro asked him after she had finished putting away the washing-up. She sounded grudging as she added, ‘I can make you a hot drink if you want.’

‘I might have a Firewhisky,’ Draco said.

He opened the cupboard containing the alcohol and pulled out the bottle of Ogden’s Old as Caro got him a glass.

‘Do you want one?’ he asked, waving the bottle at her.

Caro wrinkled her nose again. ‘No, thank you. You know I don’t drink that nasty stuff.’

Draco shrugged. ‘Please yourself. That means more for me.’ He put a large measure into the glass, looked at it for a second, then added a bit more.

‘So I take it it’s been a hard day, then,’ Caro ventured as she made herself a cup of herbal tea.

Draco sat down at the breakfast bar and stared into his glass, thinking about Hermione.

‘Draco!’ Caro said sharply.

He jerked his head up to look at her wearily. ‘Sorry, what did you say?’

‘I said has it been a hard day?’ She stared at him angrily.

Draco nodded and sighed loudly. ‘Yes. We had an extraction today. We had to rescue a woman who had been abducted by some scumbag of a stalker. He was holding her in his house and using her as his sex slave. He was a clever bastard, I’ll give him that.’

‘Oh god, poor thing. Is she okay?’ Caro enquired.

Draco shrugged and took a large swig of his Firewhisky. ‘She’ll survive. She was terrified, obviously, but fortunately it seems he was obsessed with her sexually and didn’t want to injure her in any way. He kept her locked in his bedroom, in the dark. She didn’t have a clue what day it was or anything. It was quite sad really.’

‘And what about him?’ Caro asked. ‘Did you get him? He’s not going to be able to terrorise her in the future, is he?’

‘The DMLE arrested him once they were sure we’d successfully got the woman out. He’s in Azkaban tonight, and hopefully for many years to come. By all accounts he was completely obsessed with her.’

Draco gave a massive yawn, then downed the rest of his drink.

‘I’m filthy, so I’m going to have a shower and then I’m going to hit the sack. I feel just about dead on my feet and really need some sleep. Got a major debriefing session coming up in the morning.’ He stood up and said hopefully, ‘Don’t worry about coming up if you’re not ready. I’m completely knackered and about ready to pass out.’

Draco hurried to the bathroom and into the shower, enjoying the feeling of the hot water on his skin. He’d had a quick shower at Hermione’s, mainly to rid himself of the smell of sex, but it was good to be out of the leathers and properly cleaning off all the grime. He could feel himself relaxing, too, now that he had managed to get past Caro.

With any luck she would be so pissed off with him she would stay downstairs until he was deep into sleep. He knew he didn’t rate spare-room status — unfortunately — although the frosty reception tonight meant he had to be well on the way. He had hated talking about Hermione so impersonally, but he couldn’t do anything else. He had already told Caro too much, really, but at least he knew she wouldn’t tell anyone else about it.

Caro didn’t like her friends to know what Draco did, which was fine by him. Extraction teams weren’t meant to be general knowledge as they dealt with all the dirty jobs that had a possibility of turning nasty, which was why they were so effective. He had spent the whole of their marriage pretending he was a consultant for the Ministry of Magic while also running his own and Caro’s businesses, and it had been a pretty good cover. It was a bit tricky when he got injured — the month he had spent in hospital last time had been reported to their friends as pneumonia with complications — but generally it worked well enough.

Draco left the bathroom and pulled back the bedclothes, looking forward to resting his head on the pillow with hopefully a decent night’s sleep to follow. He wished he was still with Hermione, holding her in his arms as he slept, but he was going to have to take that one stage at a time. Although he thought her perfect and was convinced she was his soul mate, he needed to wait until she was fully recovered from her trauma to make sure she felt the same way. There was no point in him rushing in if she was going to turn her back on him once she got Antenucci out of her system, although if she in any way intimated that she wanted more he would be ready to spring into action.

The door opened and Caro appeared. She had obviously used the main bathroom and was wearing what she called her seductive lingerie. Draco’s heart sank and he closed his eyes and tried to pretend he was already asleep. He and Caro did have sex regularly. She had made him sign an agreement before they got married guaranteeing they would do it at least twice a month to ensure he would provide her with an heir eventually; she was cynical enough to think, having seen both her own parents and various other couples, that after a few years of marriage the sex would pretty much stop. He hadn’t minded at the time as he expected to have regular sex with his wife anyway, and twice a month was going to be easy to beat. But although they had started out well enough, before eighteen months had passed he had discovered that the reason Caro had chosen twice a month was because that was how often she liked to do it.

In the end the whole thing had become such a production, with specially scheduled days, expensive underwear and seductive lighting, that Draco rarely felt aroused when he needed to, although he always managed to do his duty eventually. But Caro still hadn’t fallen pregnant and Draco wasn’t sure if this was because she was actively preventing it — after all, she did have her figure to think of, as she had reminded him on several occasions — or because one of them had problems in that department. He didn’t like to mention it because he didn’t actually want a child, at least not with Caro. He already knew he would be more than happy to have one with Hermione if she wanted one — although that would be quite some way down the track.

‘Honestly, Caro, I’m too tired,’ he told her, sounding disgruntled, hoping that she would get the hint and leave him alone.

‘You’re always tired,’ Caro pointed out coldly. ‘You’ve been tired for years, Draco. But it doesn’t change the fact that I’m in the mood. And we haven’t done it this month yet, so we’re overdue. We were scheduled to do it the day before yesterday and you worked an extra shift, remember?’

Draco gave a huge sigh.

‘What’s the matter? I would have thought you’d be pleased. You always used to want to have sex with me,’ she reminded him.

‘That was before it turned into such a major production,’ Draco retorted. ‘Sex is supposed to be spontaneous and fun, Caro, not something planned months in advance and coordinated to within an inch of its life.’ He thought of Hermione and sighed again. ‘Can’t it wait until another time? I really am knackered.’

‘No, I want to do it tonight,’ Caro said petulantly. ‘Come on, Draco, you know you’ll enjoy it once we get going — and it’ll help you to sleep.’

Draco gave her a wan smile, fairly certain that this time he wasn’t going to enjoy it. How could he when he had Hermione, who was the most perfect lover ever?

He sighed again. ‘All right then, but you need to get a move on. I really do need to get some sleep. And you’re on top. I know you prefer it that way anyway, so it shouldn’t be a hardship for you.’

Caro leant over to kiss him.

‘Just lie back and think of England,’ she whispered gleefully.

‘Very funny,’ Draco said shortly. ‘I suggest you get a move on before I fall asleep.’

He closed his eyes and allowed a vision of Hermione to drift into his brain. That was better. Now he would be able to get through this and then he could finally get some sleep.

 

 

* * *

 

 

‘Aren’t you even going to have a cup of tea before you go?’ Caro asked. She yawned and pulled her scarlet designer pure silk dressing gown tighter around her as she followed him out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

Draco waited for her to pass, then sat down on the stairs and pulled his boots on as he said, ‘No. I need to go. I told you, I’ve got another extremely long day today.’

‘I still don’t understand why you have to go in so early. Surely no one’s around at this time?’

‘That’s why I’m going in,’ Draco explained. ‘I’ve got reports to write about that case yesterday. They need to get done and I’ve got a load of meetings that are going to cut into the time. I can get a lot done if no one else is around to bother me.’ He looked at Caro. ‘Why don’t you go back to bed? I don’t need anything.’

‘And what about dinner tonight. Are you going to be gracing me with your presence?’ Caro asked sourly.

‘Don’t worry about making me anything. I have no idea what time I’m going to finish, but don’t expect me back much before midnight again. I really have got a massive pile of stuff still to do, and as you know, we’re short-staffed at the moment with one thing and another so I might end up having to pull an extra shift again.’

‘That’s useful actually,’ Caro told him. ‘I’m off out with the girls tonight and I didn’t really want to have to make you anything before I went. I’ll probably still be back before you, though, so if I’m in bed when you get in you can sleep in the spare room. I don’t want you waking me up.’

‘Don’t worry, I’ve no intention of waking you,’ Draco said honestly as he stood up. ‘I’ve got to go. See you later.’

Caro offered him her cheek so he could kiss it. Draco did so because it was expected of him, then moved to the coat hook to get his jacket. He had no idea whether Hermione would be awake yet, it was pretty early after all, but he hoped she wouldn’t be too unhappy to see him. They had arranged for him to visit her after he finished work but he couldn’t wait, he had to see her now.

It wasn’t just sex with Caro that made him miss Hermione so desperately. Although they had only been together for less than a day, Hermione was a part of him that he had been missing for years and having regained that part of himself he didn’t want to let it go again. It was a scary thought but Draco was in love, truly in love, and he had to see the object of his affection now. He couldn’t possibly wait all day to have to kiss her beautiful lips or all the other beautiful parts of her that he wanted to shower affection on.

He glanced at himself in the mirror. Dressed in his leathers again, he was looking pretty hot, he thought, and grinned. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Draco knocked on Hermione’s door, hoping that she was awake. Although he had no desire to have sex with his wife, the same couldn’t be said for the beautiful woman he had just come to see although at least this morning he would, with any luck, actually be doing it with her rather than just pretending it was her as he had last night with Caro. He found he actually didn’t feel anywhere near as guilty about that as he knew he should do, although knowing Caro she had probably been fantasising about someone else, too.

Hermione pulled the door open a tiny bit, one eye peering through the crack.

‘Who is it and what do you want?’ Her voice sounded husky and tired.

‘It’s me, Draco,’ he said, trying to sound suave and relaxed rather than excited. He wasn’t sure he was doing a great job.

Hermione opened the door wider, a smile of pleasure on her face. But immediately, as her brain woke up properly and kicked into gear, the look changed to a frown, her heart pounding suddenly at the thought that Michael had escaped or something.

‘What’s the matter, is something wrong? You’d better come in.’

She stepped back to allow Draco entrance, biting her lip nervously as she watched him, trying to gauge whether what he had to tell her was good or bad news. He closed the door behind him, noticing that she was wearing her pyjamas again. 

‘I’m sorry, Hermione, I didn’t mean to scare you,’ Draco said cursing himself for being an idiot. Of course she was going to be worried at him turning up unexpectedly. ‘There’s nothing wrong, honestly. I was just missing you and I wanted to check that you were okay before I went to work.’

‘You’re a bit early for work, aren’t you?’ Hermione asked.

Draco shrugged. ‘I’ve got a lot to do today, a lot of stuff to do with your case.’ He took hold of Hermione’s hands. ‘But really I just wanted to see you.’

‘Mmmm, well, it’s nice to see you, too. Especially dressed in that lovely leather again.’ Hermione winked. ‘So are you going to have to go straight away now you’ve seen me if you’ve got so much to do? Or do you have time for a cup of tea or something first?’

Draco pulled Hermione into his arms, his mouth searching for hers.

‘I like the idea of the or something,’ he whispered seductively.

‘What sort of something?’ Hermione asked. Her eyes were shining wickedly.

‘I think it would be better to show you,’ Draco said, leading her towards the bedroom. ‘Although first we need to get rid of those pyjamas again. I already took them off you once.’

‘I only put them on in hopes that you’d take them off me,’ Hermione told him. She was pulling his jacket off his shoulders as she spoke.

‘I don’t just do pyjamas, you know,’ Draco told her as he laid her down on the bed underneath him. ‘I’ll happily take off any of your clothes, whenever you want me to.’

‘Ooh, like my own personal service,’ Hermione joked. She wrapped her arms around his neck.

‘Perhaps I should make that my new job, Hermione’s personal undresser. I wonder if it would pay well?’ Draco mused.

‘I think the wages would be rubbish but the perks would be pretty good,’ Hermione said. ‘And there would be lots of perks.’

‘I don’t need money, I already have plenty of that,’ Draco pointed out. ‘So it sounds like the ideal job for me. I love the idea of perks.’

‘Perhaps I should give you a trial run first though,’ Hermione said, trying to sound serious. ‘After all, you do okay with pyjamas, but I think I need to see how you handle other clothes before I can guarantee you the job.’

‘Shall I come back this evening to give you a demonstration of my wonderful prowess?’ Draco asked, his voice husky with arousal.

‘Hmmm. Maybe. We can think about that after I’ve given you a demonstration of what you can expect to receive instead of money,’ Hermione whispered as she kissed him again.

 

 . . .

  

‘Unless I get called out to something I should be with you just after six,’ Draco told Hermione as he pulled his jacket on. ‘If I’m going to be late or something happens, I’ll send you an owl to warn you. Whatever happens, don’t worry, Antenucci is still safely in Azkaban and he’s not getting out anytime soon.’ He pulled Hermione into his arms, squeezing her tightly. ‘I wish I didn’t have to go, but I’ve got a debriefing this morning.’

He released Hermione, staring at her for a moment as if to set her in his mind, although he really had no need to, she was always in his mind now.

‘Don’t work too hard,’ Hermione told him.

‘Hah! Unfortunately, that’s all we know in the Extractions branch — but don’t worry, I think I’ll survive. That reminds me: I still need to question you about the abduction.’

‘Can we do that tonight?’ Hermione asked hopefully.

She half expected Draco to tell her that she needed to go to the Ministry to do it and she still wasn’t quite ready to go back.

‘I suppose so, as long as we do actually do it this time. I just wonder if we might get too carried away with my job interview. It’s really important that we get your story before you start forgetting or rewriting it to dull the pain of the bad bits. It would probably be more professional if you came into work.’

‘But then it would seem all serious and scary,’ Hermione said in a small voice. ‘At least if I tell you about it here you can give me a hug when it gets to the bad stuff. You won’t be able to do that if I’m in your office — or worse still, one of those awful interrogation rooms.’

‘Fair point,’ Draco responded. He had no desire to make Hermione feel uncomfortable with her questioning and he liked the idea of holding her. He definitely wouldn’t be able to do that at work. ‘But we do the questions first before we do anything else.’

‘We may have to do it in sections,’ Hermione pointed out knowingly. ‘But we will get it done this evening, Draco, I promise.’

Draco kissed her.

‘Right. I have to go. I’ve gone from being ridiculously early to being in danger of being late. I’ll see you tonight. One more kiss before I go?’

Hermione held him so tightly as they kissed that Draco wasn’t sure she was going to let him go again, but eventually they did part. He ran his hand down her cheek.

‘You are so beautiful, Hermione. I am really lucky,’ he said softly.

Hermione looked back at him tenderly. ‘I think I’m the lucky one.’ She smiled as she answered. ‘Now go, otherwise you’re going to be late and I don’t want you getting into trouble because of me.’

‘Too late, I already am,’ Draco said.

Hermione moved back to allow him to Apparate.

‘Missing you already,’ she whispered as he disappeared.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Draco spent all day with Hermione in one way or another so he was glad to finally return to her in real life. He was excited that she seemed to be as into him as he was her, and was hopeful that this might mean he was more than just a way for Hermione to recover from her abduction. His life since leaving school after the Battle of Hogwarts, which had rid the world of that madman Voldemort but had seen his family’s standing in the wizarding world slide quite dramatically, hadn’t been that brilliant, quite frankly — hence his desire to do a job that made him feel like he was accomplishing something. But now, with Hermione, things were definitely starting to look up. It might even mean his star would rise again.

But first he had to question her about her time with Antenucci. He knew that was going to be uncomfortable for both of them. By rights he should make her go to the Ministry to do it, and he should get someone else to handle it as he wasn’t exactly an unbiased bystander, but he knew it was going to be hard for Hermione and he wanted to do everything he could to give her an easy ride. So even if it wasn’t ideal he was going to be the one to question her, and he would do it at her home where he could hold her and comfort her when she needed it and she could run away if she felt she had to.

He had just reached the landing Hermione’s flat was located on when Mrs Hamblin emerged through her door. She was wearing a black velvet robe with a matching hat and carrying a wicker basket with a red and white gingham cloth covering whatever was inside. Draco couldn’t help but think that she looked a bit like the wicked witch in a Muggle fairy tale he had once read. No wonder the Muggles were anti-witches with scary old women like her around. He wondered if she had a spell cast on the landing that allowed her to know when anyone was outside so she could come and make them feel uncomfortable.

Mrs Hamblin waved at him and smiled.

‘Back again, young man? Come to see Hermione, have you? So how is she? Has she recovered yet?’ Her voice was brisk but not unpleasant.

‘I’m just going to see how she is now. Hopefully the rest will have done her good.’ Draco indicated the door to show that he should be getting on.

‘I’m sure seeing you will do more good,’ Mrs Hamblin said. ‘You’ll brighten her day right up.’

‘Hopefully,’ Draco admitted. Thinking he should be polite, he asked, ‘So what are you up to?’

‘Oh, I was just about to go and do some shopping,’ Mrs Hamblin told him. ‘I usually wander down about this time of day, just to get a few bits and bobs and to take a little walk. I’d better not keep you, though. I know you’re eager to see Hermione.’ Her face crinkled as she grinned. ‘Have a lovely evening, both of you.’

She waved and headed towards the stairs. Draco watched her go for a few seconds before turning back to knock on Hermione’s door.

‘Mrs Hamblin says hullo,’ he said as the door opened.

Hermione smiled and Draco thought it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life. Looking at her, he couldn’t help wondering whether she was ready to go to the Ministry for her questioning after all. She certainly seemed to be dressed for it in a smart pair of trousers and a soft-looking pale pink blouse that was unbuttoned at the neck, revealing a delicate silver necklace with matching earrings that graced her ears.

Before he even managed to get the door closed Hermione launched herself into his arms, grabbing him as she kissed him, her mouth warm and eager. Draco wrapped his arms around her in return. He liked this . . . liked it very much.

‘It has been _such_ a slow day,’ Hermione told him when they finished kissing. ‘I’ve been counting down the hours and it’s really dragged.’

‘It’s gone pretty quick for me,’ Draco admitted as he followed Hermione into the lounge. ‘But then again, I’ve been busy all day.’

‘I wish I’d gone into work now, then I’d have been busy as well,’ Hermione said ruefully as she sat next to him on the sofa, cuddling into him in a way that Draco rather enjoyed. ‘I’m definitely going back tomorrow, I think.’ She looked at him. ‘Do you want a drink or anything?’

‘I wouldn’t mind a cup of tea if you’re making one. I need to wet the old whistle before I start questioning you. Unless you want to go to the Ministry to do it.’

Hermione frowned at him as she stood up. ‘Why would I want to go to the Ministry? I thought we agreed I could do it here, didn’t we?’

‘We did,’ Draco confirmed smoothly. He indicated her clothes. ‘But I thought with the way you’re dressed—’

Hermione chuckled delightedly, holding her hand over her mouth as she did so.

‘This is for _your_ interview,’ she announced, her eyes glinting. ‘I thought that as this is the sort of outfit I usually wear to work it would give you a bit of practice.’

‘I’d forgotten about that,’ Draco said. ‘We really need to get on with that questioning. There are so many other more interesting things to do that we can’t do until it’s completed.’

‘We can start as soon as I’ve made the tea,’ Hermione said, and she disappeared off into the kitchen.

Draco sat back and relaxed as he waited for Hermione to bring the tea. He really had forgotten all about their jokey job interview with the meetings and debriefings and reports he had spent the day working on. He grinned contentedly. The chance to undress Hermione was always going to be gratefully accepted, and it was nice that they could have fun with the serious bit. This is what sex was supposed to be like, everyday fun — light and entertaining and downright pleasurable, not all timetables and underwear bought specially, with no touching allowed at other times. No wonder he wanted to be with Hermione rather than Caro.

He closed his eyes as he thought about his wife, wondering whether things would be better between them if they had the sort of sex that he and Hermione had. But he knew it wouldn’t. First of all, he could never have the sort of sex with someone else that he had with Hermione. What they had was completely perfect and could never be replicated elsewhere. Even if he could get close to it with Caro it wouldn’t make any difference. He admired his wife, he always had done, it was one of the reasons he had married her, after all. But he didn’t love her that way, had never loved her that way even in the earliest days of their relationship, and now he never could because he had Hermione and she was everything he ever wanted or needed.

‘Knut for ‘em?’ Hermione asked.

She was carrying two mugs which she placed on the coffee table. Draco opened his eyes and smiled at her.

‘I was just planning my strategy for the job interview,’ he said lightly. ‘I obviously want to show my talents off to their best advantage.’

‘I’m sure you’re going to be fine, Draco. There’s no need to be nervous,’ Hermione answered with a smile. ‘Where do you want me to sit for this questioning? Do you want to be all serious interviewer or can we go for something more relaxed?’

‘I suppose it depends what you mean by relaxed,’ Draco said. He picked up one of the mugs, blew on the hot tea, then took a sip. ‘We need to do this properly and I think it might be a bit rough for you. I don’t mind us sitting together as long as it doesn’t veer off into anything else.’

Hermione set her face to look serious. ‘Okay, I’m ready.’ She sat down in the armchair. ‘I think I’ll sit here for the time being and we’ll see how it goes. You may have to give me a cuddle if it gets too traumatic, though.’

‘I can do that,’ Draco promised. He put the mug back on the coffee table, then pulled some parchment and a quill out of his pocket. ‘I’m going to be using a self-writing quill for this. I’ll ask you questions and you can tell me what you remember. Once we’ve finished you’ll read through what the quill has written to make sure you’re happy with what it says and that it covers everything that happened. Once you’re content, you sign the bottom. I then sign it as interviewer and witness and then I’ll take it to the Ministry and get it formally lodged with the trial team.’

Hermione looked a little more anxious now. She licked her lips nervously. ‘Okay, that’s fine. Can we get started, then, because I really want to get it over and done with and get on to the good stuff.’

Draco smiled and said soothingly, ‘Relax, Hermione, this isn’t you on trial. We’re just trying to ascertain exactly what happened. So perhaps you can start by telling me about the first time you met Mr Michael Antenucci.’

 

 

* * *

 

 

Nothing was ever going to be as good and him and Hermione, Draco decided as he lay holding her in bed. She had her head on his chest and was apparently listening to his heartbeat. He could quite honestly stay like this for the rest of his life and be a happy man, but unfortunately it was almost time to leave. He imagined what it would be like to live with Hermione rather than Caro. It would be perfect and was definitely going to happen eventually, but sadly not tonight.

‘Did I mention how much I love having sex with you?’ Hermione told him as she wriggled her way up his body to plant a kiss on his lips.

Draco groaned at the feel of her delicious soft skin rubbing against him so provocatively.

‘It may have been mentioned,’ he said as he ran his fingers down Hermione’s spine, making her shiver. ‘Although it’s always good to be reminded.’

‘Well, consider this a reminder,’ Hermione whispered as she moved to a better position.

‘Oh god, yes,’ Draco moaned.

Hermione chuckled wickedly.

‘You recovered pretty quickly,’ she said as she moved around on top of him.

‘Well, that’s not really a surprise, is it, considering I’ve got you climbing all over me,’ Draco pointed out.

‘I just like feeling your body against mine,’ Hermione told him. ‘I like feeling it _in_ mine,’ she whispered, and she moved her hips as Draco gave another low moan.

‘You just like being in control,’ he accused mildly.

Hermione kissed his nose. ‘Not true. I like you being in control, too.’

‘Really?’ Draco asked the question suggestively. ‘If you like it so much maybe I should take control now.’

He rolled Hermione over so she was laying beneath him with her hands held above her head. His heart melted as she smiled up at him.

‘You really are the most perfect thing,’ he whispered, sounding almost in awe.

‘I was just thinking exactly the same thing about you,’ Hermione replied. ‘Oooh . . . that feels so good.’

‘Yes, it does,’ Draco agreed as his head dipped and his mouth captured hers.

When it was over Draco excused himself to go to the bathroom. When he returned several minutes later he was carrying two mugs of tea.

‘I thought you might want some refreshment after all that activity,’ he said.

Hermione smiled and patted the bed. ‘My idea of perfection . . . a hot man bearing a cup of tea. All you need is a chocolate biscuit and I would be ready to proclaim you as a god.’

‘Have you got any biscuits?’ Draco asked.

Hermione shook her head. ‘Alas, no. But the tea will do very nicely. Come back to bed. It’s cold and lonely without you, Hot Boy.’

‘Hot Boy? I hope that’s not going to be your new nickname for me,’ Draco retorted, sounding disgusted.

‘What do want me to call you, then?’ Hermione asked.

‘Master would be good,’ Draco said with a grin.

‘Never going to happen,’ Hermione assured him.

‘What about God?’ Draco suggested.

‘But you’re not — we’ve already established that you don’t have chocolate biscuits. Try again, Hot Boy.’

Draco put the mugs on the bedside cabinet and dropped onto the bed beside Hermione where he proceeded to tickle her.

‘Perhaps I don’t want you giving me a nickname,’ he said as she screamed with laughter.

‘Please let go, Draco,’ Hermione panted, trying to pull herself away. She kicked him but it didn’t stop the tickling. ‘Stop tickling me . . . please.’

‘And why should I do that? Perhaps you’ve annoyed me with your nickname.’

He tickled her again, drawing another squeal, then released her.

‘Do you really not like being called Hot Boy?’ Hermione asked him.

Draco shrugged nonchalantly. ‘I’m not fussed, really. I thought it was quite funny, though, the first time you said it.’

Hermione moved back into his arms, snuggling up close.

‘To be honest, I only keep saying it because it’s so obvious it annoys you, although I really do think you’re hot. Perhaps Mr Perfect would be better.’

‘Well, I’m definitely not perfect,’ Draco retorted as he squeezed her. He wasn’t, by any stretch of the imagination, but it was extremely flattering that Hermione thought he was.

‘You are to me,’ Hermione whispered.

‘Then maybe we’ll just keep _that_ nickname between ourselves,’ Draco said.

‘So it’s looking like Hot Boy is the winner still, then,’ Hermione said with a wink. She moved her hand. ‘Ooh, and I see you've recovered again . . . maybe your nickname should be something about stamina.’

Draco looked at her seriously. ‘Actually, we need to be careful or it’s going to be something about babies. I can’t keep—’

Hermione stopped him with a kiss.

‘Don’t worry about that,’ she assured him. ‘I’m on the pill . . . it’s a Muggle contraceptive. I don’t intend to have children for several years yet.’

‘Okay, that’s good,’ Draco said, sounding relieved. He realised he might sound a little too relieved and quickly added, ‘Not that I don’t want to have babies with you, Hermione, because I do . . . I mean, I would . . . well, you know what I mean. But now really isn’t a very good time.’

‘I know exactly what you mean,’ Hermione assured him, her stomach tingling with pleasure at the thought that Draco wanted to have children with her. ‘I really like practising for it, though.’ 

‘Me too,’ Draco replied happily. ‘And I think we might be ready to have another lesson.’

 

 

* * *

 

 

Hermione realised that she had never felt so happy and she knew it was because of Draco, or Hot Boy as she now insisted on calling him because she knew it annoyed him; although she suspected he actually found it rather flattering. He had told her that her nickname was Goddess, which she found hysterically funny. She certainly didn’t feel like a goddess, although maybe when Draco touched her in that special way . . . .

She had wanted to believe that whatever was happening between her and Draco was going to fizzle out, would reach a natural conclusion, and she would be able to walk away from it healed from Michael and not hurting too badly about Draco. But now she had a sneaking suspicion that this thing with Draco was never going to end because it was meant to be, and that if they tried to end it they would both end up incredibly unhappy and would probably ruin the lives of everyone they knew with their misery.

If they were meant to be together, then that meant living together and marriage and children and all those things that Hermione had dreamt about so many times but never managed to get anywhere near. Now it looked as if everything she had always wanted might come true after all, and all of it with the man she had spent most of her teenage years hating.

But there was a little part of her that was worried things were going too fast, that she wasn’t giving herself time to get over Michael properly before jumping headlong into a relationship with Draco. It was the little nagging part of her that thought things couldn’t be quite as good as they seemed. How did the old saying go? If it seems too good to be true, then it probably is.

Hermione didn’t want her pessimism to ruin what she had with Draco, but neither could she abandon herself to him completely. She had already thrown caution to the wind by becoming intimate with him after only a few hours in his company. Okay, so she had known him for seventeen years, but she hadn’t really known him — except as a bigoted, argumentative tosser, which wasn’t a place to start the relationship from.

Draco hadn’t told her he loved her yet, which pleased Hermione as it was far too soon to be talking in those terms regardless of what she herself felt; but he had come quite close a couple of times, she thought. She’d had to be careful with what she said as well. She knew she had almost said the ‘L’ word to him and wasn’t sure if it would scare him away or escalate things faster than she could handle. She was so confused about her feelings and she couldn’t talk to Draco about them as she had talked to him about Michael.

She couldn’t talk to Harry and Ron, either. She wasn’t sure what they would think of her and Draco hooking up, but although it was likely that eventually they would accept the relationship because they would see how happy being with Draco made her, she knew that in the short term they wouldn’t be too happy at how quickly it had happened. She had a feeling her friends would accuse Draco of taking advantage of her while she was so vulnerable. Hermione was almost certain that such wasn’t the case, but yet again there was still that small element of doubt.

‘What are you thinking about?’ Draco asked, pulling Hermione close.

‘Nothing and everything,’ Hermione said airily. It was a saying her father always used when he didn’t want to explain.

‘Are you thinking about us?’ Draco’s voice was soft and seductive.

‘We’re part of everything, aren’t we? Or are we nothing?’ Hermione asked.

‘Oh, I think we _are_ everything, not just part of it,’ Draco replied honestly. ‘You’re certainly everything to me.’

He squeezed Hermione tightly.

‘I don’t ever want to let you go, Hermione,’ Draco whispered, his lips brushing her hair as he spoke.

Hermione froze, her heart suddenly thumping and her stomach churning madly. Automatically she pulled out of Draco’s arms and sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, ready to leave.

Draco shot up beside her, panicking wildly, unable to understand what he had done wrong.

‘What’s the matter, Hermione?’ he asked desperately, trying to get her to look at him, although she was trying to avoid his eyes as she fought to keep her sudden nausea under control. ‘What did I do wrong?’

Draco got out of bed and moved in front of her, dropping to his knees as he took hold of her hands.

‘I’m so sorry for whatever I did. Talk to me, please,’ he begged.

‘Please don’t say that. That’s what _he_ said,’ Hermione told him quietly, her voice shaking with emotion as tears rolled down her cheeks. ‘On Sunday night, before we went to sleep. He said the exact same thing, and then on Monday . . . .’

‘Oh my god, Hermione, I am _so_ sorry. I didn’t realise.’

Hermione looked at him, her eyes sparkling with tears. ‘I know I’m being stupid and overreacting, but . . . .’

Draco squeezed her hands. ‘Of course you’re not overreacting. It’s understandable after what you’ve been through, especially as it was so recent. I’m the idiot for not thinking properly. I really didn’t mean it in a creepy way, but I can understand why you would take it like that. I keep forgetting how little time we’ve been together because it seems like we should have been together forever.’

‘I think it just hit me out of the blue because you used the same words,’ Hermione explained tearfully. ‘I’ll be fine, Draco, honestly.’

‘Perhaps I should leave and let you recover without me saying something else stupid,’ Draco said downheartedly.

Hermione pulled at Draco’s hand to get him up and pulled him onto the bed next to her.

‘It wasn’t stupid, it was a nice sentiment . . . just at the wrong time,’ she told him with a small smile. ‘Will you kiss me?’

‘Whenever you want,’ Draco assured her as he wrapped his arms around her.

‘I really should go,’ he said a little later, once he and Hermione had taken a break from kissing.

‘You don’t sound very keen to go,’ Hermione said.

Draco sighed. ‘I’m not, but I have to do it.’

‘No, you don’t. Stay here with me,’ Hermione tried to convince him.

‘I honestly wish I could, but I really have to go. I need to go back into work. I signed up for an extra shift because we’re so short-staffed at the moment, and I need to get your interview logged and passed on. Can I see you tomorrow, though?’ Draco asked hopefully.

‘I’m counting on it, Hot Boy.’ She winked at him. ‘Although I don’t know what state you’ll find me in as I’m going back to work tomorrow morning.’

‘You’re going back tomorrow? Do you think you’re ready? There are only a couple more days until the weekend, so why don’t you wait until next week?’ Draco asked worriedly.

Hermione shook her head, she was frowning. ‘No, I need to get back into a normal routine — to get back to leading my normal, boring life — and that’s not going to happen if I stay sitting in my flat brooding on what happened to me and counting down the hours until you come to keep me company again.’

Draco studied her for a moment, trying to gauge Hermione’s state of mind. Apart from her odd moments of panic she seemed to be okay, so perhaps she was ready, and the Healer at St Mungo’s had said she could go back so there was no reason for him to try to stop her.

‘Okay . . . good. So everything will be back to normal tomorrow, then,’ he said.

Hermione wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder.

‘Well, not quite everything, I hope.’

‘Oh, don’t worry. You’re not getting rid of me that easily,’ Draco assured her. ‘I shall be round to hear all about your boring day and make it less boring.’

‘See, I said you were perfect, Hot Boy,’ Hermione said happily.

‘Mmmm and I have something good to reminisce about during another long and stressful shift tonight,’ Draco told her. He kissed Hermione gently on the lips. ‘And something equally good to look forward to tomorrow night.’

 

. . .

 

‘I thought you said you were going,’ Hermione reminded him after several more kisses had taken place and she was on her back underneath Draco again.

He sighed wistfully as he stroked her hair back from her face. ‘Unfortunately, you’re right. I really _must_ go.’

Draco kissed Hermione’s nose, then pulled away from her, leaving the bed to find his clothes. Hermione watched him, admiring his lithe physique as he dressed. When he had finished he returned to the bed for one final kiss.

‘Have a nice relaxing bath and get a good night’s sleep,’ he recommended.

Hermione grinned at him. ‘I might have a chance at that as you’re not going to be here.’

Draco nodded as he grinned back. ‘And have a good day at work. I’ll see you tomorrow evening. What time do you want me to come round?’

‘When do you want to come round?’ Hermione asked.

‘What time do you finish work?’ Draco asked playfully.

‘Come round at half past seven and you can have dinner,’ Hermione told him. ‘I’ll cook you something.’

‘That’s a date,’ Draco said, sounding satisfied. He stole another kiss, then checked his watch. ‘Shit, I really do have to go, Hermione. Do you mind if I Apparate from in here?’

Hermione shook her head. ‘Of course not. Don’t work too hard. And don’t do anything dangerous. I don’t want you getting hurt.’

Draco looked at her fondly and smiled. ‘I’m not aware of anything interesting in the pipeline for tonight. I’m probably just going to be a desk jockey.’

‘But you wouldn’t tell me if there was, would you?’ Hermione asked.

‘Rules of the job, I’m afraid,’ Draco said. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m missing you already.’

Hermione thought she could say the same thing. She really wished Draco didn’t have to go to work, and not just because she was worried about how dangerous his job was. She would have loved to have him stay with her all night.

Instead she said, ‘Shut up and go to work, Hot Boy.’

Draco gave her a small salute and a wicked grin. ‘As you wish, my Goddess,’ he said, sounding gallant.

With a flick of his wand he Disapparated, leaving Hermione alone and suddenly feeling a little less bright than she had before.

She climbed out of bed and retrieved her cotton dressing gown from the back of the chair, wrapping it around her as she made her way into the lounge. It was still amazing to her to think how quickly she had begun to think of Draco in terms of being a real lover, especially given their history — although to be fair, he had been incredibly handsome when he was at school and had only got better as he had aged. For a moment she wondered whether her attraction and desire to be intimate with him really was a direct result of what she had been through with Michael, because surely she shouldn’t want to be involved with anyone after what he had done to her.

But having thought about it as she prepared a salad for her dinner, Hermione decided that this — whatever this was with Draco — wasn’t a rebound thing, or an attempt to keep away her fear. The truth was that she fancied him something rotten and was seriously convinced that she had finally found the one she had been waiting for so long. However handsome and sexy Michael was, and there was no doubt about it that whilst he might be psychologically disturbed and in need of locking up he was extremely good-looking and seductive, Draco beat him hands down both in looks and personality, even if you excluded the mental part.

It was astonishing to think that the person she had spent so many years arguing with over the pettiest of circumstances was destined to be her soul mate, but already she knew he was. His heart sang and hers replied in perfect harmony. Hermione had never felt this way about anyone and she knew Draco was the better thing she had been waiting for, the pinnacle of her high standards, and wonderfully for her he appeared to like her just as much. Michael had been yet another loser in her huge pile of losers, but now she had given her interview she could forget him and relegate him to history. Draco was the only man she wanted, and amazingly she was actually going to get him.

For a moment Hermione wondered again about what Harry and Ron would say about her being in a relationship with Draco, worried that they might disapprove in a holdover from their school days, but then she realised that she wasn’t really bothered about what they thought. Things had moved a long way since they left school, they had all grown up and changed. If there was one thing she was certain of it was that her friends wanted her to be happy, and once they understood that Draco made her happy they would accept him — although Ron would probably still call him a stalker, she thought wryly.

After finishing her dinner and washing up her plate and utensils, Hermione took Draco’s advice and had a long, hot soak in the tub before having an early night.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Draco was glad he didn’t have to leave the office as he wasn’t really mentally alert enough to lead a team into a situation that could potentially endanger or even kill them. He was feeling bone-tired and was still focussed on Hermione and her outburst just before he left. He ended up spending most of the extra shift reminding himself what an idiot he had been with her. He still couldn’t believe how possessively he had acted towards her, and almost immediately after she had told him in excruciatingly painful and heartbreaking detail how Antenucci had acted in almost exactly the same way. Ruefully, he considered that the only thing he hadn’t done since their relationship started was abduct her and keep her locked away in the dark; everything else had a touch of stalker about it.

Telling her he wanted to keep her with him forever — check.

Telling her he wanted her to have his babies — check.

Rushing round to see her first thing in the morning because he couldn’t keep away from her — check.

And being serious, the only reason he hadn’t already suggested something more permanent between them was because he was still married and couldn’t, so if he’d been single that would have been another huge check. Maybe then Hermione would be trying to escape from him, just as she had tried so hard to escape from Antenucci. Draco’s only saving grace was that he didn’t want to keep her away from other people. It was strange how something so small could make such a huge difference between the relationship being normal and being horribly perverted.

What he couldn’t understand — although his mind kept returning to it — was why, if Antenucci really was as in love with Hermione as he claimed, he didn’t realise that what he was doing to her was hurting her. As an ex-employee of the Department of Mysteries he obviously wasn’t a stupid man, but somehow he seemed to lack the ability to distinguish between reality and fantasy. He had either completely blocked out Hermione’s anguish or he just genuinely didn’t understand it.

Draco still wasn’t sure why he felt such a strong attraction to Hermione after such a brief re-acquaintance with her, but deep in his heart he knew that whatever this thing was between them was real. He didn’t think his feelings for her were ever going to change, whatever happened in the future.

The more he considered it the more convinced he was that it stemmed from their time at school together. He thought back to some of their arguments and could see with hindsight how he had overcompensated for having to keep his true feelings hidden. He had been in love with Hermione then and seeing her had rekindled his feelings, which in turn had been boosted by the circumstances in which he had found her.

His strong desire to protect her, coupled with the intense desire that had been simmering away inside for all those years, had coalesced into an overwhelming need to get physical with her. He was still in love, but at least now he could express his feelings and not have to hide them under arguing and stupidity.

He was definitely going to have to do something about Caro, though. 

Draco spent a considerable amount of time thinking about his wife and going through various conversations he would need to have with her. It was going to be tough. Even if he didn’t love her they had still had a few years together and they hadn’t always got on so badly. At his most optimistic he imagined Caro would be understanding.

After all, she would remember Hermione from school and it seemed everyone in the world remembered Draco and Hermione fighting, so maybe she would be happy to give way, especially as there wasn’t anything that deep between them. More likely, she would be furious with him and would seek to make his life a misery for a while, but eventually she would give in because there was no real desire between them.

One way or another he was going to have to talk to her, and he would have to do it soon. He decided he could no longer wait until Hermione made up her mind whether she was serious about them as a couple or not. Even if she ultimately rejected him, which he wasn’t really expecting, he couldn’t stay with Caro any longer. It wasn’t fair to her and she didn’t deserve him continuing to play around behind her back. He wanted to get it out in the open and sorted as soon as possible.

But not tonight. Caro had been out with her high society friends this evening and would probably be drunk, and when she was drunk she was a real bitch. He hung on at the Ministry for as long as he could so that when he finally got home she was already in bed. A night spent in the spare room would be perfect for him as it guaranteed him a good night’s sleep, which he desperately needed, but in order to attain it he had to stay out as late as possible, which made him even more tired.

His last consideration was that once he sorted things out with Caro he was going to have to face his parents, which would be a mini-trial all on its own. Draco didn’t care what any of his friends were going to think — they would accept Hermione or not and she would always be more important to him than any of them — but his parents were a different matter. Although their views had changed somewhat in the years since Voldemort’s defeat, Draco knew they still weren’t comfortable with the equality of Muggle-borns in wizarding society, although to give them their due they always tried hard to hide their discomfort, in public at least.

Having said that, Hermione might have her own problems with his parents, he realised. After all, it was at Malfoy Manor that she had been painfully tortured by his mad and now fortunately deceased aunt, and they had just stood by and let it happen — as had he — something he had spent years afterwards feeling incredibly guilty about. He would definitely understand if Hermione wasn’t keen on visiting the old family pile, although part of him hoped she would show the same compassion she had shown for others in the past and give his parents a chance to apologise to her.

Draco sighed. It would be so much easier if he and Hermione could just run off somewhere together and forget about everyone they knew. But again, that sounded like Antenucci and stalker territory, so he needed to make sure he never voiced it. 


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione was so busy on her return to work that she didn’t have a chance to visit either of her best friends until late in the afternoon. She stopped at Ron’s office briefly, but he was in the middle of preparing his evidence notes in readiness for an upcoming trial with the Wizengamot, and although he was overjoyed to see her he had to send her away, very reluctantly, because he was too busy to talk, but not before promising faithfully that he would take her to lunch the following day. As she walked towards the office that Harry shared with their old school friend Dean Thomas she wondered whether Dean was aware of what had happened to her or whether, as within her own department, only certain people had been made aware of the true facts. She had discovered upon her return that most people in her department were under the impression that she had been off with an extremely bad bout of flu, which actually suited her perfectly. She was already ashamed enough about what had happened to her without every gossip in the office knowing and talking about it.

Harry leapt out of his chair when he saw Hermione come through the door. His look of delight at seeing her was unmistakable. She couldn’t help but smile back as he pulled her into a huge hug that seemed to go on forever. Eventually, when she became worried that she was going to stop breathing, she pulled back from him, finally looking around the room.

‘Isn’t Dean in today?’ she asked, trying not to sound relieved and feeling a moment of guilt at the thought that she was glad her friend wasn’t there so she wouldn’t have more questions thrown her way.

Harry shook his head, still smiling. ‘No. Apparently the Hammers won a big game last night and he was out celebrating . . . more like over-celebrating, I reckon. He came down with a sudden case of food poisoning this morning.’

‘Ah, I see . . . poor Dean. I hope he feels better soon,’ Hermione said.

‘Oh, I’m sure it’s just the twenty-four-hour kind and he’ll be right as rain tomorrow,’ Harry retorted sardonically. He indicated for Hermione to sit down in Dean’s seat as he took his own again. ‘But enough about Dean. More importantly how are you, Hermione? We’ve been worried sick about you, you know.’ He studied her intently as he spoke.

‘I’m fine, Harry, just feeling a bit stupid for getting myself into that situation,’ Hermione admitted.

Harry frowned. ‘Hey, there’s no need to run yourself down for that. It wasn’t your fault Michael turned out to be a perverted creep. You acted in good faith and had every right to trust him based on the way he had acted towards you,’ he said gently. Then he added, ‘Of course, Ron always said he was a stalker although, mind you, he says that about all your boyfriends. But it turns out he was right for once. He didn’t do anything to hurt you, did he?’

Hermione shook her head, not sure she was ready to completely share her experience with Harry just yet. He would only worry about her and she didn’t need that. ‘No. he just kept me locked in his bedroom most of the time. He let me walk around the house when he was there, but when he went to work he locked me up — so I couldn’t escape or signal to somebody that I was there, although Merlin only knows how I would have managed that. He kept the bedroom curtains closed all the time, and there were shutters on all the windows so I had no idea whether it was day or night. It was completely disorientating and I didn’t have a clue how long I had been there. To be honest, it seemed like an eternity, although I know now that it was only a couple of weeks.’

‘And you’re sure he didn’t hurt you in any way?’ Harry asked worriedly.

‘No. He didn’t want to hurt me, he just wanted me to have contact only with him and no one else. He didn’t want me talking to you, Ron or anyone. He was just obsessed, that’s all. But it was a bit scary at the time.’

‘I’m not surprised. You’ve been through something terrifying. Ron was frantic when you didn’t turn up to work that morning, and worse still when he couldn’t contact you. When we realised your flat was empty I thought he was going to force his way into the Department of Mysteries and Imperio them into giving Michael to him.’ Harry frowned again. ‘Was Michael his real name? He disappeared at the same time as you and we couldn’t work out at first whether he actually worked at the Ministry or had just been hanging around and stalking you.’

‘As far as I know that’s his real name. He told me all about his family — they’re Italian, although I don’t know whether they still live in Italy or are over here; he didn’t tell me that. I know he arranged things so that he left work and started a new job the same weekend he abducted me. He said that because it took me so long to accept his invitation to stay it gave him time to do things like doctor our personnel records so he could hide me more effectively. He deliberately put down fake addresses so no one would be able to find me. I honestly believed I was going to be his prisoner forever.’ Hermione shuddered as she remembered.

Harry frowned again. ‘So, what — he just wanted you to live with him and nothing else? That really is mega-creepy.’ 

‘He said I was his sex toy,’ Hermione admitted in a whisper, a flush of shame staining her cheeks as she said it. ‘That I belonged to him and he could do whatever he wanted with me.’

Harry stared at her anxiously. ‘What did he do to you, Hermione? He didn’t do anything . . . well . . . you know . . . funny, did he?’

Hermione gave him a look that could have been termed old-fashioned. ‘I’m not sure I know what you mean by “funny”, Harry, but he didn’t do anything kinky if that’s what you mean.’

Harry looked relieved. ‘You did have sex with him, though?’

Hermione’s eyebrows rose in surprise at the question. ‘Of course I did. That was the whole point of going there for the weekend in the first place. That’s why it took me so long to agree to it. I needed to make sure I was ready for the relationship to get more intimate. I wanted to be sure he was trustworthy and wasn’t going to muck me around like Stefan did.’ She gave a small bitter laugh as she raised her eyes to the ceiling. ‘God, I was an idiot.’

‘And didn’t he give you a clue what he was like . . . during the weekend, I mean?’  Harry asked.

Hermione shook her head fervently. ‘No, he honestly didn’t. He was the perfect gentleman on Friday evening when we went out to dinner and things went really well between us, which is why I decided to go back to his house when he asked. I wasn’t even sure when we woke on Saturday morning whether he would want me to stay, but when he asked if I would spend the rest of the weekend with him I jumped at the chance. He was romantic and loving and everything I could have wanted in a lover, and that didn’t really change later. He just wouldn’t let me leave.’

‘There is definitely something mentally wrong with that man,’ Harry said. ‘So what happened? How did you get away from him? We looked for you everywhere but there was no trace of you. It was like you had suddenly ceased to exist. He had erased you from the Ministry records — it was really scary, actually. And as you said, all the addresses we had for him were fake. No one knew him, at least not outside of work, although even his work colleagues didn’t know much about him apparently . . . but they all knew you were his girlfriend. Several even said he was obsessed with you. We ended up with the whole Auror office on the case but everything came up blank and we were at a complete loss. Eventually, we had no choice but to pass it up the chain to the highest levels of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

‘Once we did that we were effectively out of the loop, although Mr Weasley knows someone who works in their outer office and so we got general reports, but we still had no real idea of what was going on. The first we knew for sure was when Yaxley sent a message down to say you had been found and successfully retrieved on Tuesday afternoon. I passed the message on to everyone although Ron didn’t find out for a few hours as he was out on a job. But we still didn’t get any details about what happened. It was only yesterday that Mr Weasley discovered they had caught Michael and put him in Azkaban.’

‘It was Draco Malfoy who rescued me,’ Hermione told him. Her heart beat faster as she thought of the handsome blond man who had been her saviour and was now so much more than that.

‘Really?’ Harry looked interested. ‘I didn’t know he’d gone into the Extractions branch. That’s an interesting choice of career considering how much money he’s got. You’d have thought he’d be doing something a little less dangerous, wouldn’t you?’

Hermione shrugged. ‘He seems to love his job and he’s very good at it. He told me afterwards that Michael made a mistake. He didn’t manage to erase me completely, and having put descriptions out for me and him in the Muggle world they got a response. They tracked Michael for a couple of days, hoping he would eventually lead them to me, which was how they found the house, but they decided to wait for him to go to work before they rescued me so they could get me out without a fight. They weren’t sure what state I was in, weren’t even sure if I was still alive, and they didn’t want to distress me more than I already was.

‘After they got me out, Draco took me home and stayed with me because I was terrified that Michael was going to come and take me back again. Two teams from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement moved in to arrest him — one at the house in case he bolted back there, and one at his new place of work. He went without a fight, apparently, although he kept asking to see me even after he was put in Azkaban. Draco said he’s refused to talk apart from saying it’s all a big mistake and they need to let him out because I can’t survive without him.’

Hermione shuddered as she thought of Michael.

‘Definitely not right in the head, then,’ Harry said. ‘I bet you were glad to be found, though, even if it was by Malfoy.’

‘I didn’t realise it was him at first,’ Hermione admitted. ‘I was so terrified and upset by what Michael had done to me that when Draco and his team broke in I was cowering on the bed like a nervous wreck. He literally picked me up and carried me out, but I was so out of it that I didn’t have a clue what was going on. He took me to St Mungo’s for a check-up, but it was only when we got back to my flat that I really returned to my normal self. Then, of course, I realised who it was who had saved me. He’s been so nice to me, Harry. He’s spent so much time looking after me and stuff. He’s honestly been really wonderful, nothing like you would think he was . . .  like he was at school.’

She hoped she hadn’t blushed when talking about Draco, especially as she was gushing about how wonderful he was. That would have been a big giveaway, and she wasn’t yet ready to share their relationship with Harry. 

‘So did he say anything about himself and what he’s been up to? I bet he’s done some fascinating and scary stuff as an Extractor,’ Harry said curiously. He frowned. ‘I wonder what his wife thinks about him doing that job. Ginny would kill me if I wanted to do something like that so it seems amazing that she would let him do it, especially with all his money. Did he mention her at all or say anything about any kids?’

‘Wife?’ Hermione felt a hard lump of something nasty and cold settle in her stomach at Harry’s words. ‘Draco’s married?’

She was impressed that she managed to keep the dismay out of her voice instead, sounding merely curious and somewhat surprised.

Harry nodded his head as he looked at her with a slight frown. ‘Yes, didn’t you know?’

Hermione shook her head, hoping she didn’t look as hurt as she felt. There was a pain in her heart that hadn’t been there a minute ago and she was suddenly finding it hard to breathe.

‘No. When did that happen?’

Harry looked at her in surprise. ‘Blimey, do you really not remember? It must have been about four or five years ago. It was in all those magazines Ginny reads so voraciously. Loads of pictures of the two of them looking so blond and perfect together. The wedding cost a bloody fortune.’

Hermione looked blank as she tried to remember whether she had actually known Draco was married but had put it out of her mind, not wanting it to get in the way of what they were doing, but she was sure she hadn’t.

‘I honestly don’t remember,’ she said. ‘Mind you, I don’t read those sorts of magazines, so I probably wouldn’t have known.’

‘No, of course, you only read boring work-related stuff, don’t you?’ Harry joked. ‘But it made the newspapers, too. You know what the Malfoys are like. He married that heiress Caroline Whats-Her-Name, the one who was a friend of Pansy Parkinson. I can’t believe you don’t remember — it was a massive society wedding. It was all everyone talked about for weeks because of the amount of money they spent.’

Hermione shrugged dismissively, feigning nonchalance. ‘I probably wasn’t particularly interested. I’ve never been impressed by Draco’s money. Anyway, he never mentioned anything about a family. We didn’t really talk about that sort of thing, to be honest. The conversation was more about the situation, if you know what I mean.’

Harry looked at her sympathetically. ‘Sorry, I wasn’t really thinking. He wasn’t likely to make small talk, was he? Not considering what you’d been through.’

‘He was great, actually. He really calmed me down and stopped me from being scared,’ Hermione said automatically. She was horrified to hear the wistful tone of her voice, worried that Harry might pick up on it.

‘Well, I’m glad to hear he wasn’t a dick to you. Although he was doing his job so he couldn’t be really, I suppose,’ Harry said.

‘As I said, he’s very good at his job. I don’t think it even occurred to him to be mean or whatever. Anyway, we’ve all grown up since school so there’s no reason he wouldn’t have, too. All that Pure-blood crap is long forgotten.’

‘You’re right, I guess,’ Harry mused. ‘I suppose because I haven’t really seen him since we left I can’t help thinking of him as he was at Hogwarts.’

‘He’s completely different,’ Hermione said, unable to put Draco out of her mind although she was desperate to now. ‘He rescued me,’ she continued quietly, her tone of voice inflecting the three words to say everything they needed to.

She tried hard to ignore the nausea that rose in her as she thought about Draco and what they had done together. He had made her feel so happy and safe after her terrible ordeal, so much so that she had considered herself close to finally attaining those old fantasies: marriage and children. But now her world was about to come crashing down yet again because of him.

How could he be married? He had made love to her and given her the impression that they had something special, even that he was in love with her, when all the time he knew there could never be anything between them because he already had a wife and maybe even a family. He had been a dick, regardless of what she had said to Harry. Oh God, she had been completely wrong in her assessment of him. He was no different from the way he had been at school after all.

‘And for that alone we will always be extremely grateful to him,’ Harry replied solemnly. He picked up on Hermione’s distress and began to worry that their discussion about the abduction was upsetting her. ‘Are you okay, Hermione?’

Hermione shook herself from her thoughts and stood up, moving back towards the door. Harry followed her.

‘Oh yes, I’m fine. Sorry, I was miles away. I suppose I should go and do some work. How’s Ginny, by the way?’

Harry smiled. ‘Better, now you’re back safe. She was really worried about you . . . well . . . we all were. Even Percy asked about you a couple of times.’

Hermione gave a wan smile. They really had been worried if Percy had got involved. ‘Is she fed up with being pregnant yet?’

Harry sighed. ‘Very much so. It’s so bad sometimes that I wish it was me who was pregnant. It would be so much easier.’

‘So does she, I bet. Although I don’t think you realise just how difficult being pregnant is, otherwise you wouldn’t joke about wishing it was you. Personally, I don’t think you could cope with it.’ Hermione gave a much larger grin now as Harry looked a little put out at her comment. ‘Well, send her my love and tell her I’ll try to get round to see her soon.’

‘I will, thanks.’ Harry stared at Hermione for a moment, then wrapped his arms around her again and gave her another hug. ‘I’m so glad you’re back safely, Hermione,’ he told her honestly.

Hermione smiled again. ‘Not as glad as me. I’ll see you later, Harry.’

Her smile disappeared as she left the room. Immediately, she was bombarded with visions of Draco and his betrayal of her. She could feel the tears threatening and ducked into the nearest ladies’ toilet to hide away until they passed. She was aware that she could probably get away with them as everyone who knew what had happened would be expecting her to still be upset about it, her boss had even expressed concern as to whether Hermione was emotionally ready to return to work. Hermione had assured him she was fine and because of that, if for no other reason, she didn’t want him to see her like this in case he decided to send her home. Although she knew Michael was locked away in prison and couldn’t get to her and no one else was going to abduct her, it didn’t stop her being nervous about being alone.

That was why learning Draco was married was so hurtful. He had callously used her fear, taking advantage of her weakened condition to draw her into having sex with him. Obviously, he considered her a slut because she had slept with Michael and thought she would be an easy target. Had he also thought she was a sex toy to be used by anyone who wanted her? She hadn’t got the impression that this was what he was doing, but then ever since she had met Michael her judgement on everything, especially men, had been completely awry. She should have known when she realised she fancied Draco. Regardless of what he said about them being perfect for each other, she should have known it wasn’t right.

But their lovemaking had been so wonderful. Draco was an even better lover than Michael; Hermione had really felt a deep connection with him and had been certain that he felt the same way — he had told her he did. As the tears flowed down her cheeks, she doing nothing to stop them, Hermione remembered the first time they had made love, when Draco had hesitated and she had begged him not to tease her. Was he having a moment of guilt then, remembering that his wife was waiting for him at home while he had sex with her? She was horrified to think that might be the case.

It got worse as she couldn’t help wondering whether he had only done it because she was so needy. She hadn’t wanted him to leave, hadn’t wanted to be alone, and she had definitely come on to him and made it clear that she was interested rather than the other way round. Perhaps he had never wanted her but had done it so she wouldn’t break down. But surely that couldn’t be the case, otherwise he wouldn’t have come back. He would have handed her over to someone else to look after at the first available opportunity, pleased to be rid of her.

Instead, he had spent so much time with her over the last few days that she had become convinced that he really did have genuine feelings for her and had let her guard down again, even though she’d had misgivings. But obviously he was just after the sex. He was probably laughing to himself even now at how gullible she was. It was disgusting that he could treat someone like that, especially someone who had just been through what she had suffered. But then hadn’t he always treated her badly? This was no different from any of the other things he had done to her at school. She just wished she didn’t find him so bloody attractive.

Why did he have to be married? Hermione thought miserably as she finally quelled the tears and headed back to her office. It was so unfair that she had finally found her ideal man and he wasn’t available.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Draco had been thinking about Hermione all day and had literally been counting down the hours until he could be with her again. It was still amazing to him that she had turned out to be his soul mate, the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Everything about her aroused him, and in bed they were dynamite together. He had to admit he was really looking forward to making love to her again. Although that creep Antenucci had been mentally unbalanced, Draco could sort of understand where he was coming from. He would never stop Hermione from seeing her friends and family or from working — that part of it he would never understand however much he thought about it. But like the Italian, he definitely wanted her to be his. And tonight would be another step closer to achieving that.

As he climbed the stairs to Hermione’s flat he whistled a jolly tune. He was happier than he had been in a long time and it was all because of the beautiful woman he was about to spend the evening with. He wondered whether he would be able to stay the night. He would have to wait and see how things went. He didn’t want to push it and make Hermione feel uncomfortable, but he no longer had any urge to go home. He was aware that Hermione was still recovering from her ordeal and would be sensitive for quite a while yet. But he was going to be there to help in her recovery and hopefully she would realise that love wasn’t the scary thing Michael had made it into but something beautiful and pleasurable.

Draco had spent more time that day thinking about his feelings for Hermione and the way the two of them had reacted to each other at school and was now absolutely convinced there had been attraction there — for both of them — which they had been desperate to keep hidden because of the circumstances in which they found themselves. He had felt quite depressed for a short while when he realised that had he acted on his feelings rather than subjugated them, he and Hermione could have been together for years rather than days and his life would have been absolutely perfect with her as his wife rather than Caro. But then he reminded himself that everything could only get better from here on in, and it had cheered him up no end.

He waved at Hermione’s neighbour, Mrs Hamblin, today wearing a long emerald green robe. She was entering her door as he arrived on the landing. She gave him a beaming smile and waved back before going into the flat and closing the door. He rapidly crossed the landing and rang the doorbell, waiting impatiently for Hermione to answer.

Hermione’s first reaction when Draco rang the doorbell was to pretend that she wasn’t there and hope he would go away. She had seriously considered not going home so she actually wouldn’t be there when he came to call, but she knew that was just burying her head in the sand. Eventually, she was going to have to face him, and although it would hurt it was better to do it sooner rather than later. There didn’t need to be any big deal about it, she just needed to tell him to go home. She was certain that once he discovered she knew about his wife, Draco would probably leave anyway.

She took a deep breath and opened the door, trying to steel herself against the sight of the handsome man who she knew would make her heart both melt and hurt when she saw him.

‘Hullo, Hermione. How was your first day back at work? Was everyone sufficiently relieved to see you, and was it as boring and normal as you thought it would be?’ Draco asked brightly as the door opened. 

Hermione stood in the doorway, looking at him but not saying anything. Draco’s smiled faltered a little as he wondered what had happened to make her look so unhappy.

‘What do you want, Draco?’ Hermione’s voice was cold and unfriendly.

Draco frowned. ‘To see you, of course. You invited me round for dinner, remember? Are you okay? Has something happened? Let me in and we can talk.’

He reached out to wrap his arms around her but Hermione took a half step back and shook her head.

‘No. I think you need to go back to your wife and leave me alone.’

Draco looked at her in surprise, his heart sinking at Hermione’s coldness. What was going on and why was this suddenly an issue between them?

‘Hermione, darling, let me in. We need to talk.’ Draco tried to keep his voice as soothing as possible.

Hermione shook her head again.

‘No, we don’t. You need to leave.’

She stepped back again, and before Draco could capitalise on it, she slammed the door in his face. Draco stared at the closed door in confusion for a few seconds. Why was this suddenly being brought up now? He could understand if she had mentioned it the first time they had made love, but she hadn’t said a word then. What did Caro have to do with anything except for the fact that she was stopping him making Hermione his wife, although to be fair he hadn’t envisaged that happening for a while yet. Eager he might be, but even he didn’t think he could ask Hermione to marry him after only a couple of nights of what was admittedly wonderful lovemaking, even if they had known each other for years. He had expected the relationship to develop a little before they moved down that road, which would give him plenty of time to divorce the current Mrs Malfoy.

He rang the doorbell and then, just to make a point, banged on the door as well.

‘Let me in, Hermione. We obviously need to talk and doing it through a closed door won’t do any good.’

Hermione stood on the other side of the door, unable to move away, wanting but not wanting to open the door. She could feel her heart breaking as Draco continued to ring the doorbell and knock.

‘I’m not going to go away, so you might as well let me in,’ Draco said.

‘Go away, Draco.’ Hermione’s voice was wobbly as she spoke. She could feel tears welling and breathed deeply, trying to stop them. The last thing she needed was to cry.

‘No! I’m not leaving. I’ll stay out here forever if need be, but you will talk to me eventually so you might as well make it sooner rather than later and save us both a lot of pain.’

Hermione took another deep breath. ‘Go away. I don’t want to talk to you and I’m not _going_ to talk to you.’

Well, we’re in a bit of a stalemate situation, then,’ Draco told her. ‘Because I’m not leaving until you let me in. I can wait as long as it takes.’

He waited hopefully for several minutes but Hermione didn’t open the door. Sighing, but resigned and determined, Draco sat down in front of it.

He waited for five minutes, then knocked on the door again.

Hermione ignored him.

This pattern continued for the next forty-five minutes, until Hermione could stand it no more.

‘Please go away, Draco. I’m begging you.’

‘No, I’m not leaving, and if you don’t let me in soon then I’m going to break the door down.’

‘But I don’t want to talk to you,’ Hermione told him miserably.

She closed her eyes, trying to convince herself this was true although she knew it wasn’t. She desperately wanted to see Draco, to hold him and have him tell her that everything had been a big mistake and he wasn’t married. But because he was, that was never going to happen.

Draco drummed his fingers on the floor as he waited. How long could Hermione last before she gave up and let him in? He honestly would wait as long as it took, but he wanted to be in there now. He needed to sort out whatever the problem was and get back to the romantic stuff, and he couldn’t do that through a closed door.

‘Hermione, please, I really need to talk to you,’ he begged, not caring what anyone who might hear him thought. He wasn’t too proud to beg. He could feel Hermione slipping away from him and he couldn’t allow that to happen.

He realised that someone was standing next to him and looked up to see Mrs Hamblin from next door looking concerned.

‘Are you all right, dear?’ she asked kindly, her voice warm and pleasant.

She looked at the closed door and then back at Draco.

He nodded and gave her a smile. ‘I’m fine. We’ve just had a small argument and it’s taking me a little while to convince Hermione to let me in.’

Mrs Hamblin patted him on the arm. ‘Don’t you give up,’ she whispered.

Draco shook his head. ‘Never. I have no intention of giving up where Hermione is concerned.’

Mrs Hamblin smiled approvingly and walked back towards her flat. Once at the door she turned and looked at Draco again and mimed knocking before going inside and closing her door.

Draco stood up and rang the doorbell then knocked on the door once more.

‘Hermione, talk to me, please. If you don’t open the door right now I am going to break it down. I’ve got my wand out,’ he warned.

He pulled his wand from his pocket and pointed it at the door.

A moment later the door opened and Hermione peered out, looking unhappier than he had ever seen her.

‘Why don’t you just go home to your wife? I don’t want to talk to you, Draco,’ she said morosely.

Draco looked defiant. ‘I’m not going home. I don’t _want_ to go home. I want to be here with you, Hermione, and I believe that under whatever it is that’s got you so upset you want me here, too.’

‘There’s nothing for you here,’ Hermione told him. ‘So you might as well go away. There’s no point in dragging things out for no good reason.’

‘You’re here,’ Draco pointed out desperately. ‘That’s why I’m here. You know how I feel about you, Hermione, so please let me in.’

Hermione shook her head sadly. ‘You need to go home, Draco. I don’t want you here.’

Draco, seeing his chance, pushed Hermione backwards into the flat and followed her through the door, slamming it shut behind him with his foot. Before Hermione had a chance to react he grabbed her, his arms clamping tight around her body to stop her moving away, and his mouth found hers in a kiss that she initially tried to stop, but only half-heartedly it seemed to him. He released his grip on her a little for a second kiss, but after that failed he let her go.

Hermione turned away and walked into the lounge without saying a word. After watching her go, Draco followed. Hermione stood in front of the coffee table with her arms folded, looking at him angrily, although he could see the tears in her eyes.

‘I don’t understand what I’ve done, Hermione,’ Draco said honestly as he walked towards her his arms out as if ready to hug her again. ‘Let me hold you, please.’

‘You shouldn’t be doing that — you’re married,’ Hermione hissed. ‘Everything we did together, Draco, all that stuff you made out was so special . . . and all the time you were married to someone else. I knew you were a bastard but I honestly thought you had changed — thought you had grown to be a better man. Instead, you’re worse than you used to be.’

Draco looked at Hermione in astonishment at her outburst. She was acting this way because he was married? But why was it such a problem now? Had she spoken to Potter and Weasley about their relationship and they had been disparaging about him and intimated that he didn’t really care about her? It was the only reason he could think of for her suddenly turning on him over this.

‘I don’t understand what the problem is,’ he said as he walked towards Hermione again. ‘I’ve never lied to you about how I feel about you. You know I adore you and I love the time we spend together. I never want it to end.’

‘And then you go home to your wife,’ Hermione told him coldly. ‘Do you tell her the same things you tell me?’

‘You’ve lost me,’ Draco said, looking confused. ‘Why is my wife suddenly so important to you?’

Hermione looked at him in amazement, then gave a laugh of disbelief.

‘Why do you think she might be important, Draco? Everything that’s happened over the last few days is a total sham. How can you can you talk to me about babies and tell me you don’t want to leave me when you’ve got a wife waiting for you back at home?’

‘Because I don’t love her, I love you,’ Draco said honestly. ‘That’s why I want to be here with you and why she isn’t a big deal.’

‘And that’s why you never said anything about her, is it?’ Hermione asked bitterly.

‘Why would I talk about Caro?’ Draco asked, sounding even more confused. ‘I try to spend as little time thinking about her as it is and I’ve no idea would you want to talk about her.’

‘At least if I’d known she existed I could have made better choices,’ Hermione said miserably. She sank onto the sofa, her head bowed as she cried.

Draco looked at Hermione in horror.

‘You didn’t know I was married?’ he asked, sounding stunned.

Hermione looked up and glared at him. ‘Of course I didn’t. Do you honestly think I would have done anything with you if I’d known you had a wife? I would never have . . . .’

Draco moved to join her on the sofa.

‘Hermione, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise you didn’t know. I thought everyone in the bloody world knew about me and Caroline getting married. It was in all the papers and magazines at the time. You know what my parents are like for publicity, and Caro’s are ten times worse. Every paper and magazine ran extensive articles on everything from table decorations through to the flowers. It went on for weeks. Even the _Quibbler_ had a section where you could redesign her wedding dress. It never even occurred to me for a single minute that you weren’t aware of it.’

‘So, what, you think I’m some sort of slut who goes around sleeping with other people’s husbands for the fun of it?’ Hermione asked belligerently.

‘No, of course not. This thing between us — it’s been building up for so many years. It’s like we were meant to be together. You know we fit perfectly, Hermione, when we make love, even when we’re just together. There’s something special between us. I just assumed you were ignoring my marital status because you and I have something far greater than any marriage.’

Hermione shook her head. ‘No, I had no idea — and even if I had, how was I supposed to remember that after what I’d just been through? You took advantage of me, Draco. You made me into a fool and that hurts.’

Draco took hold of her hand, stroking it soothingly. ‘No! No, that’s not true, Hermione. I didn’t make a fool out of you.’

Hermione gazed at him miserably, her voice quiet as she said, ‘Yes, you did. You knew you were married and yet you still . . . .’ She broke off as she started to cry. 

Automatically Draco pulled her into his arms, gripping her firmly as he hugged her.

‘I really am sorry that you didn’t know, but it doesn’t change how I feel about you. Caro and I have never really been suited and we certainly don’t have the spark that you and I have got. I felt it the moment I picked you up in that house, and then again when I saw you at the hospital – and I don’t care what you say, I know you feel the same way about me.’

‘So why did you marry your wife? You must have loved her to do that,’ Hermione said.

She pulled away from Draco’s arms again, no longer crying although she dabbed at her eyes with a tissue she had retrieved from her pocket.

Draco shrugged. ‘I’m not sure I ever really loved Caro. I certainly admired her and it was an advantageous marriage on paper, but that was all.’

‘And what does that mean?’ Hermione asked tersely.

‘It means that theoretically we were perfectly matched. We come from similar backgrounds and have a similar amount of wealth. We move in the same social circles, so in theory we’re ideally suited. But it’s rubbish. In reality it means nothing because we’re not at all matched. Once you take away the money, the only thing we really have in common is that we were both in Slytherin and we have the same friends. That would probably have been enough . . . if I hadn’t met you again.

‘I love you, Hermione. I didn’t want to rush things and make you feel uncomfortable after what you went through with Antenucci, but it’s true — my heart belongs to you and there’s nothing I can do to change it.’

Hermione continued to gaze at Draco miserably.

‘It’s true,’ Draco insisted. ‘I have done for years. Think about it. That’s why we used to fight all the time when we were at school. It was because we fancied each other and didn’t want to admit it. It lay dormant all those years and then suddenly we were thrown back together, in a time when the things that used to cause a problem are no longer of any relevance, and those desires erupted. It was perfect and beautiful and like nothing I’ve ever experienced before, and every moment we spend together makes it even better.’

Hermione shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter how it feels, Draco. It doesn’t count because you’re married to someone else.’

‘And I shouldn’t be. I should be married to you, and if I hadn’t been so bloody stupid at school I would be,’ Draco retorted, convinced that this was true.

‘But you’re not . . . and you can’t just take what you want, Draco. It’s not fair. Not to me or to your poor wife.’ Hermione’s voice shook as she fought tears once more. Why wouldn’t Draco just admit he was wrong and leave so she could let the pain out at last?

‘I could be your husband — if you let me and give me time,’ Draco replied, sounding desperate, his own misery now breaking through at Hermione’s reluctance to see reason. ‘I love you, Hermione. Please give me a chance.’

Hermione shook her head sadly. ‘I want you to go and I don’t want you to contact me again. Go back to your wife and your dangerous job and leave me alone. Just forget you even know me.’

‘That’s not going to happen, you know it won’t.’ Draco grabbed hold of Hermione’s hands, gripping them tightly as he gazed into her eyes, wanting her to know he was being sincere. ‘I didn’t forget about you after leaving school, not really. I just tucked you away where I wouldn’t think about you so much and it only worked because I didn’t see you. As soon as you came back into my life it was like you had never gone and I knew I couldn’t let you leave again. I love you and I will keep saying it because it will continue to be true, whatever the current situation is.’

Draco wrapped his arms around Hermione as she broke down in tears, holding her tightly as she sobbed into his shoulder.

‘I’m not willing to give you up,’ he whispered.

Draco’s fingers gently brushed her back as he tried to soothe her, his lips moving slowly to kiss her neck before gently claiming her mouth. For a moment he thought she would push him away again but instead, Hermione kissed him back. His heart beat faster at the possibility that he had finally got through to her and she would stop trying to send him away.

‘Don’t do this to me, Draco,’ Hermione whispered miserably once the kiss had finished. ‘It’s not fair.’

‘We should be together, you know we should. We were made for each other,’ Draco said staunchly. ‘You know how good it feels. How much better than with anyone else.’

‘But I can’t do this. Not now that I know you’re married,’ Hermione told him.

Draco kissed her gently on the lips. ‘Yes, you can. Hermione, my marriage was over the minute I rescued you from that house . . . and it will happen, it’s already happening, it just takes time. I need you to give me that.’

‘Have you told her about us?’ Hermione asked quietly.

Draco shook his head. ‘Not yet. There’s not been time with all the work I’ve been doing. But I promise I will tell her as soon as possible.’

‘You should go home and talk to her now, then,’ Hermione suggested.

‘I don’t want to go home. I want to stay here with you,’ Draco said. ‘I promise I will talk to Caro about it, but I’m not leaving you tonight.’

Hermione knew she should send Draco away and refuse to have anything to do with him until he divorced his wife and proved to her that he was serious about his intentions toward her. But the desire that had caused all the trouble in the first place was still there, breaking down her resolve to send him away. She needed Draco to leave, but at the same time she didn’t want to let go of him and was desperate for him to make love to her in the same beautiful way he had done so many times before.

He smiled at her and Hermione knew she was lost.

‘I didn’t make you any dinner,’ she told him ruefully.

 ‘It doesn’t matter, I didn’t really come for dinner,’ Draco said with a smile as he pulled her close again. ‘I’ll say it a million times if I need to: I just want to be with you.’

He kissed her, and then he kissed her again . . . several times.

‘Let me love you, Hermione. Let me stay with you all night and show you how much I love you.’

‘I don’t think your wife would be very happy about you staying out all night. Won’t she wonder where you are? Or are you often away from home overnight?’ Hermione asked.

Draco immediately understood the inference and deflected. ‘I haven’t stayed away overnight before but I often have to work extremely late. Sometimes Caro and I don’t see each other for days. If I get home after she’s gone to bed then I sleep in the spare room and often I’m gone again before she gets up. I’m not a serial philanderer, Hermione. I’ve never even looked at anyone else. I’m just in love with you and I’m not going to leave even if it means sitting on this sofa alone all night.’ He looked at her with pleading puppy-dog eyes that made her heart melt a little bit. ‘Please don’t make me stay on the sofa all night.’

Hermione sighed in resignation. She obviously wasn’t going to get Draco to leave of his own accord as he clearly didn’t feel guilty about what he was doing at all, and she wasn’t strong enough to force him out, especially when she still didn’t have a wand. And the main problem was he was still so gorgeous that she couldn’t resist him, especially knowing how good he made her feel.

‘All right, you can stay,’ she said finally. ‘But I’m not happy about what you’re doing to your wife. You need to sort that out.’

‘I promise I will,’ Draco said happily, and he pulled Hermione towards him once more.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione had been considering what to do ever since Draco left that morning. Guilt was eating her up at having allowed him to stay when she should have forced him to go home to his wife. While she desperately wanted to accept his explanation of why he hadn’t told her about his marriage, for some reason she wasn’t quite able to. She knew it was eminently possible that he really had thought she knew all about it; after all Harry knew and he wasn’t exactly the world’s biggest socialite. But there was something, and Hermione knew it had something to do with the Draco of old, which meant she couldn’t quite put out of her brain the fact that the boy she knew at school would have been happy to deceive her to achieve his own ends.

By rights, she should have thrown him out as soon as he had explained — giving him the opportunity to explain in the first place was more than she had needed to do, but instead, she had let him stay and then had stupidly let him back into her bed. It was the overwhelming need for Draco to tell her the truth about his feelings for her coupled with the intense desire she felt every time she saw him that made her do exactly what she had sworn to herself she wouldn’t do and give in to him, Hermione thought as she dried her hair. But now he was gone, now that his handsome face and protectively playful manner weren’t around to distract her from the issue, Hermione decided she needed to end things between them for good.

It was clear from the way she had acted last night that she was never going to be able to tell Draco to his face. Her resolve crumbled so quickly when she was with him that her only option was to run away. It was cowardice, pure and simple, but surely she could be forgiven for that when she wasn’t fully recovered from what Michael had done to her. Draco was playing on her insecurities, and the only way she could be sure of stopping him was to not be anywhere near him. But how was she going to achieve it? When Draco had left, with one of his blistering kisses that made her toes curl, he had told her he was going to talk to his wife after work and he would see her afterwards. Hermione had been too weak to refuse him and now, unless she could think of a way round it, she would be following the pattern of the previous day with only Draco’s word that he was going to do as he said and get a divorce.

Hermione considered the problem all the way to work and also through a dull section meeting into which she had little input. By the time she emerged from the meeting she knew what she had to do. She was going to have to move. It was a rather drastic and disappointing conclusion considering how much she liked her flat, but Hermione knew she had no choice. Draco wouldn’t leave her alone, last night had proved that, so she had no choice but to make sure she wasn’t there when he called. She considered for a while whether a few days of this would be sufficient to stop him in his tracks, but Hermione suspected that based on what happened between them every time they saw each other it probably wouldn’t be. The only way to guarantee her peace of mind was to move elsewhere completely, somewhere Draco couldn’t find her.

But where could she go? Moving to a new flat wasn’t going to be as easy as snapping her fingers, but she couldn’t risk another night with Draco without losing all her self-esteem. For a while she considered this instead of the piece of work she was supposed to be doing, and she came to the conclusion that she needed her friends’ help. She now definitely didn’t want them to know about Draco and what they had done. She was still too busy living down the shame of what had happened with Michael to admit she had rushed headlong into a relationship with a married man just because of some stupid hormones, but she would have to tell them something in order to gain their help.

Fortunately, thinking of Michael gave her the excuse she needed. Hermione knew that Harry would be the hardest of her friends to convince. He was less impetuous than Ron and more likely to question why she needed to leave her flat when Michael had never been there. What she needed to do was work on Ron first. If she could get him to believe her and get his backing and help, Harry would automatically follow.

Having spent all morning fretting about the situation, Hermione looked suitably worried when she met Ron for lunch. He was quick to spot her distress, although in usual fashion he tried to jolly her out of it by ignoring it.   

‘Hey, Hermione, it’s great to have you back.’ He gave her a great big hug to go with his grin. ‘Let’s go and get some lunch and we can catch up.’

Hermione gave him a wan smile but didn’t say anything.

Ron looked at her worriedly. ‘Are you all right? You are okay to be back at work, aren’t you?’

Hermione nodded but looked upset.

‘Hey, what’s the matter?’

Hermione wasn’t faking the pain she felt as she looked at Ron and she could feel tears ready to erupt at any moment.

‘Hold me, please,’ she whispered to her friend.

Immediately, Ron pulled her back into his arms, holding her tightly as Hermione burst into tears, the comforting feeling of her friend the final trigger to her misery.

‘What on earth’s the matter, Hermione?’ Ron asked urgently, his stomach sinking as all sorts of terrible scenarios ran through his mind one after another.

It was several minutes before Hermione managed to calm down enough to speak, and even then it came out as more of a wet, guttural whisper than anything like her normal voice.

‘I need to move, and I need to leave today.’

Ron loosened his grasp, still holding her arms as he pulled back to look at her anxiously.

‘Why? What’s happened?’

Hermione sniffed and pulled a tissue from her pocket, wiping tears that still leaked from her eyes. She looked unhappily at Ron as she told him, ‘I can’t settle at home. The place is freaking me out.’ Ron frowned and she added,’ I know it’s really stupid because Michael is in prison and there’s no way he can get me . . . but I’m scared, Ron. I just can’t stay there any longer. I don’t feel comfortable. I _need_ to go somewhere else, somewhere away from everything that’s happened.’

Ron stared worriedly at her. ‘Do you want to go to the canteen or would you prefer to go somewhere else to talk?’

Hermione shook her head. ‘Can we grab a sandwich and go and sit in the park? I feel like I’m being watched here.’

‘Let’s go to the Whitehall Café and get something to take away,’ Ron said, mentioning one of their favourite Muggle lunch venues.

Hermione nodded and slipped her arm through Ron’s as they headed for the exit.

Fifteen minutes later they were sitting on a park bench in Embankment Gardens. Ron wolfed his way through his chicken, bacon and avocado bap as Hermione told him the same things she had told Harry — although this time she omitted to mention Draco. Her sandwich was still wrapped and untouched on her lap. She wasn’t able to eat as she felt sick.

‘Wow, I can understand why you’re scared after everything that happened to you,’ Ron said sympathetically. He wiped his mouth with a napkin before taking a swig from his bottle of Coke. ‘But I don’t understand why you want to leave the flat. Michael’s in prison and he wasn’t working with anyone else, was he, so you should be perfectly safe.’

‘But that’s the problem, I don’t feel safe,’ Hermione replied tersely. ‘It doesn’t _matter_ that Michael’s in Azkaban, I just don’t feel comfortable there. Maybe I’ll get over it eventually but in the meantime I feel trapped and scared and it’s beginning to drive me mad.’

Ron looked at her interestedly so she elaborated. ‘For instance, the other day I took a shower and I went to open the window to let the steam out and I couldn’t do it. I had a massive panic attack, not even so much that Michael or someone else would be outside waiting to get me — I knew that wasn’t going to happen — but I was terrified I would be seen, that someone would realise I was at home and would come to get me.

‘It’s stupid and irrational, I know, but I was almost sick and the feeling of terror was absolutely real. I’m scared to leave the flat and I’m scared to stay in it, even though I know it isn’t likely I’m scared that Michael will escape from prison. But if he did, the flat is the first place he’d go to try to find me. I know it is because that’s the first place I’d go, and I know I didn’t tell him the address but I bet he still knows it because he did all that stuff with my personnel records.’

Hermione could feel herself getting a little hysterical so she stopped speaking and breathed deeply to calm herself. She dug in her handbag for another tissue to blow her nose and dab at her eyes, which were threatening to leak again. Ron looked astonished at her outburst.

‘Hermione, I’m so sorry I didn’t come to see you before. I’ve just been so busy with work,’ he said quietly. ‘I feel really guilty for leaving you to have to deal with all that alone.’

Hermione almost mentioned Draco at that point but she managed to stop herself. She didn’t want Ron to know about him at all. She wrapped her arms around him, pleased when he returned the gesture, and for a few minutes they sat that way, not speaking.

‘It’s not your fault, and I don’t think it would have made any difference if you had been to see me. I just can’t feel safe in my own home anymore so I have to leave,’ Hermione told him once she felt calmer.

Ron nodded his head in agreement. ‘Okay, I understand that. So we’ll find you somewhere else to live.’ He patted Hermione’s hand soothingly. ‘Don’t worry, Hermione, you’ll be fine.’

Hermione sighed. ‘I can’t go home. I know it sounds silly, especially as all my stuff is there, but I just don’t want to be there any longer.’

Ron looked at his watch. ‘Do you want to go now? I’ve got time if you want. I’ll come with you and we’ll get some clothes and stuff, enough for a couple of days while we sort out a new flat for you. If we go back to the Ministry we can Apparate from there and be back in half an hour. When we get back we’ll go and see Harry. I’m sure you can stay with him and Ginny until we find somewhere else for you.’

‘I can’t Apparate. You’ll have to take me Side-Along,’ Hermione said. She felt another pang at the loss of her wand. She really needed to find the time to go and get another one.

Ron frowned. ‘Why can’t you Apparate?’

‘Because I haven’t got a wand anymore. Michael took it and they never recovered it. They think he destroyed it and I haven’t had a chance to get a new one yet.’

Ron looked at his watch again as if weighing something in his mind. He sighed as he stood up. ‘Okay, new plan. Let’s go and get your stuff, then I’ll take you to Diagon Alley and you can get a new wand while I go and talk to Harry about you staying with them. You can join us once you’ve got it. Harry can get Ginny to start looking for a new flat while we’re working. It’ll give her something to do and take her mind off the pregnancy for a little while. Hopefully, we should find you something fairly quickly and get you moved in and you’ll start to feel safe again. Are you ready to go?’

Hermione stood up and linked arms with him again. She was smiling now.

‘Thank you, Ronald. I’m sorry I’m such a pain.’

Ron laughed. ‘You always have been, Hermione, but we love you anyway.’

 

 

* * *

 

 

Draco was feeling a mixture of trepidation and excitement as he opened the front door. He really wanted to get this out into the open, to admit to Caro his love for Hermione and the fact that he wanted to end their marriage. But there was a touch of nervousness, too, as he wasn’t sure what sort of mood his wife would be in, especially considering he hadn’t come home last night.

He closed the door and put his outer robe on a coat hook, slipping his shoes off as he did so. He wandered into the lounge. Caro, immaculate and expensively dressed as always, was sitting on their massive cream leather sofa reading the _Daily Prophet_ , with her legs curled up underneath her. Their two dogs, a bullmastiff called Prince and a golden retriever called Piper, were laying directly in front of the sofa. Prince raised his head to look at Draco as he moved into the room.

Caro looked up from the newspaper. It was clear she wasn’t very happy.

‘Where the hell have you been?’ she asked coldly.

Draco moved to the nearest armchair and sat down. Prince got up and moved so he was sitting near his master. Draco reached out a hand to stroke him although he was still looking at his wife.

‘I need to talk to you, Caro,’ he started, trying to keep his voice neutral.

Caro glared at him. ‘Yes, you do, and you can start by explaining where you were last night, Draco. You didn’t bother to come home at all. So where were you?’

Draco sighed. ‘Look, I don’t want to have an argument with you about this.’

‘Oh, really?’ Her voice was sharp and cold. ‘So are you going to tell me where you were, or are you just going to pretend you were busy with work again?’

Draco looked at his wife appraisingly for a few seconds. ‘I was with Hermione . . . Hermione Granger.’

‘Hermione Granger? What the hell were you doing with her?’ Caro asked sounding surprised.

‘That woman I told you about saving the other day, the one that was abducted by her stalker, that was Hermione. It was the first time I’d seen her since leaving school and as soon as I did . . . I can’t actually put it into words but it was amazing. She was amazing,’ Draco admitted.

‘You’ve been shagging her,’ Caro spat accusingly.

She dropped the newspaper onto the sofa and changed position. Piper sat up and looked hopefully at Caro. She stroked the dog’s head as she glared at Draco.

Draco nodded. ‘It just sort of happened, to be honest. She was scared and needed looking after—’

‘And you thought you’d do that by taking her to bed, did you?’ Caro asked, her voice pinched. ‘Gods, you are such an arsehole, Draco.’

‘No! . . . Well, yes, but as I said, it just happened. And when it did I realised I was still in love with her.’

She looked at him in shock. ‘ _Still_ in love with her? What do you mean you’re in love with Hermione Granger? What the hell’s that all about? I thought you always hated her at school. You were always fighting with her and calling her horrible names.’

Draco shook his head as he admitted, ‘No, I never hated Hermione, I just pretended to. I _should_ have hated her because she was Muggle-born, but the truth is that I fancied her like mad. Obviously, there was no way anything could ever happen between us so I kept it subjugated, which was great when I didn’t see her for ten years. It wasn’t quite so good when I saw her so scared and upset in that awful house. I just wanted to hold her and protect her. Things spiralled from there, really.’

‘So why are you telling me this?’ Caro asked, as if she really didn’t have a clue why they were talking.

Draco looked at her in surprise. ‘You know why, Caro. First of all, I’ve never lied to you, however bad things may have been between us, and I don’t want to start now. But mainly it’s because I want a divorce.’

She gave a sharp, bitter laugh, then said acidly, ‘Granger comes back into your life for _two days_ and suddenly you want a divorce. What makes you think she’s going to want you? You’re probably just a rebound shag, Draco, something to help her get over that pervert who abducted her. Once she’s all better you won’t see her for dust. Let’s face it — she’s never had any interest in seeing you for ten years.’

Draco considered for a moment before answering. ‘That’s not true. Hermione and I are ideal together. I’ll be honest, the sex is the best I’ve ever had in my life — our bodies fit each other perfectly and everything is completely right between us. I already know she wants to be with me because we’ve talked about it. I’m not meant to be with you, Caro, I’m sure you know that as well as I do. Let’s face it, our marriage has never been that great. I’m truly sorry I cheated on you, but I _have_ to be with Hermione and I couldn’t stop myself.’

‘And you think I’m just going to let you go, do you?’ Caro asked.

Draco shrugged. ‘You don’t actually have any choice. I’m telling you our marriage is over and I am going to file for divorce whether you agree to it or not. I’m just giving you the chance to sort this out reasonably, like adults, and get it over and done with as soon as possible so we can all get on with our lives and be happy rather than dragging it out through the courts . . . and the newspapers.’

Her face was hard as she said, ‘Perhaps I won’t agree to the divorce. Then what will you do?’

‘That’s entirely up to you. Even if you don’t agree to it I’ll still only have to wait a couple of years and then it’ll go through anyway. But I can assure you that any goodwill I might have had towards you will evaporate as soon as you say no,’ Draco said, his voice hard.

‘But if you have to wait you won’t be able to marry your wonderful Hermione, and she might not want to wait for you,’ Caro pointed out maliciously.

Draco shook his head. ‘She’ll wait. We’ve already waited ten years. Anyway, we don’t need to be married we just need to be together. I don’t even need a divorce for that, but I was trying to do the decent thing here.’

There was silence for several minutes as he and Caro stared at each other.

Finally, she replied peevishly, ‘All right, you can have your divorce. But you’re not having the house. It’s mine and I refuse to allow _her_ to live in it.’

Draco shrugged. ‘That’s fine. I don’t think Hermione would want to live here anyway. Is there anything else? We can get the documents properly drawn up later, but it would be good to get most of the negotiation done before the lawyers get involved. It always ends up messy otherwise.’

Caro took a deep breath. ‘The dogs are mine, too.’

Draco immediately shook his head, pain flaring in him at the thought of the loss of his pets. He took a deep breath, thought about it for a moment and trying to be reasonable said, ‘That’s not happening. You can have Piper but not Prince. He’s mine and always was.’

They glared each other down for a moment then just as Caro was about to speak Draco added quietly, ‘You back down on this one, Caro, or I’ll fight you for both of them.’

Caro looked mulish for a moment as she stared at Draco and Prince, then nodded her agreement.

‘Is there anything else?’ Draco asked, eager to get things wrapped up so he could be on his way to give the good news to Hermione.

‘I can’t think of anything offhand, but if I do I’ll let you know,’ she said.

Inside Draco was congratulating himself on his forthrightness and Caro’s reasonableness. The whole discussion had gone far more easily than he had expected, although to be fair there wasn’t much of a marriage left for her to try to cling onto and she was probably glad to see the back of him. This way she got to take the moral high road, which would suit her down to the ground.

‘Good. In that case we can get everything else sorted with our solicitors. Do you agree?’ he asked, trying to keep the glee out of his voice. He needed her to say yes, so he had to stay humble and in her debt for a little longer.

Caro sat silently, stroking Piper for a few minutes. Draco felt the urge to rush her but knew there was no point in getting annoyed, not when he was so close to getting everything he wanted. Hermione could wait another few minutes. Anyway, it would be worth the wait.

Eventually, sounding resigned, she said slowly and softly, ‘Yes, I agree to your divorce proposal, Draco.’

Draco looked relieved. ‘Thank you, Caro,’ he said sincerely.

‘Will you be leaving the Extractions Branch now?’ she asked him.

Draco frowned. ‘Why would I do that?’

‘If you love Hermione as much as you say you do, you’ll have no choice,’ Caro told him honestly, feeling that now their relationship was over she could finally talk freely about his dreadful job. ‘You have no idea how awful it is being married to you, Draco. I’ve spent almost every minute of every day of our marriage worrying that today will be the day when I get a visit from the Ministry telling me you’ve been killed. It’s bad enough when you get injured, especially when it’s serious — like last time. Don’t make Hermione go through that for you. It’s not fair to her. She’ll think she can take it, but it soon wears you down and eventually she’ll resent you for it, even if only a little bit. And if you’re thinking of having children you definitely don’t want to be in that game.’

‘Is that why you never got pregnant?’ Draco asked, sounding dismayed. ‘I’m so sorry, Caro, I never realised. You should have talked to me about it.’

Caro sighed. ‘It was partly that, although really I wanted to wait for a few more years anyway and I was hoping you might have got the Extractions thing out of your system by then without me saying anything and coming across as a nag. I know how much you love the job, Draco, but you don’t have anything to prove, you know. You definitely need to think about giving it up for Hermione.’

Draco stood up, giving Prince one final pat.

‘I’m going to take a few things and go. I’ll leave Prince here for the time being to give you a chance to say goodbye to him. I’ll move my stuff out over the weekend and take Prince to my parents’ place. I’m not sure if Hermione can have dogs in her flat,’ he explained.

‘I’ll look after him until you’re settled somewhere you can take him,’ Caro said staunchly. ‘I won’t fight you for him but it’s pointless you leaving him at Malfoy Manor when I’m happy to have him.’

‘Okay, thank you,’ Draco said. He walked over and kissed Caro on her cheek as he had done so many times before. ‘And thank you for your advice about the job, too. I will give it some serious consideration. I never thought about how it affected others before. I guess that means my parents probably aren’t too chuffed about it, either.’

‘Your mother hates it,’ Caro confirmed. ‘Every time we visit she’s always lamenting the fact that you chose such a dangerous job. I don’t think they understand why you went for it in the first place.’

‘I guess I’ve always been selfish,’ Draco said solemnly. ‘I never really thought about what anyone else would think. I just wanted to do something that would help people . . .  after Voldemort . . . you know.’

Caro chuckled. ‘There are plenty of ways to do that without putting your life at risk every time you go out, Draco. It’s especially crazy when you’ve no need to work anyway.’

Draco grinned ruefully. ‘You’re probably right. Point taken. I shall have to start looking for another job.’ He nodded towards the door. ‘I’m going to go now.’

‘I honestly hope it works out for you,’ Caro said magnanimously. She picked up the newspaper and began to flick through it, looking for the place she had got to before Draco had come in.

‘Be happy, Caro,’ Draco said softly. He bent to kiss her cheek again, then left the room.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Draco hoisted the heavy bag from over his shoulder and dropped it to the floor before he rang Hermione’s doorbell. He waited for a few seconds and then knocked on the door. He listened carefully but couldn’t hear any sound. Was Hermione not at home? He checked his watch: it was almost eight o’clock. Surely she should be home by now? For a moment panic rose in him that something nefarious had happened to her but he made himself calm down and think rationally. There was bound to be a sensible explanation for why Hermione wasn’t at home. She was probably just working late or had gone shopping on her way home or maybe even to visit one of her friends. Hadn’t he seen something in the paper recently about Potter’s wife being pregnant and not able to play Quidditch for the Holyhead Harpies? That was probably it. There was no need to panic.   

He rang the doorbell once more just to be sure she hadn’t missed it, but after another few minutes passed Draco knew she definitely wasn’t there. He resisted the urge to Apparate into the flat to see if there were any signs of a struggle. Gods, Hermione’s fear of Antenucci was making him paranoid now.

 _Just calm down and wait, she’ll be back soon_ , he told himself. _She knows you’re coming so she’s not going to stay out all night_.

With a sigh he sat down to wait, hoping that Hermione wasn’t going to be too long. He was dying to share his good news about the divorce and even more eager to taste her beautiful lips. It would be good to see Hermione happy and smiling again. Although she had agreed to him staying last night and physically it had been every bit as wonderful as on the previous occasions they had spent together, Draco knew she hadn’t really been all that happy. He sighed again. Of course, in retrospect it was stupid of him to have assumed that Hermione had known about his marriage. She was right that considering the stress she had been under at the time it wasn’t fair of him to just take for granted that she would remember. He had been so desperate for things to get intimate between them that he had quite honestly assumed she knew and didn’t mind, especially as she had made overtures to him in the first place. But then again, even if he had thought to query it he wouldn’t have said anything. He wasn’t going to risk losing Hermione because of his stupid soulless marriage, why would he do that? No wonder she was angry with him. Hopefully, the news of the divorce would make her realise that he was completely serious in his intentions towards her and they could start making plans, the first of which would be to find somewhere they could live together with Prince.

Of course, in retrospect it was stupid of him to have assumed that Hermione had known about his marriage. She was right that considering the stress she had been under at the time it wasn’t fair of him to just take for granted that she would remember. He had been so desperate for things to get intimate between them that he had quite honestly assumed she knew and didn’t mind, especially as she had made overtures to him in the first place. But then again, even if he had thought to query it he wouldn’t have said anything. He wasn’t going to risk losing Hermione because of his stupid soulless marriage, why would he do that? No wonder she was angry with him. Hopefully, the news of the divorce would make her realise that he was completely serious in his intentions towards her and they could start making plans, the first of which would be to find somewhere they could live together with Prince.

Hearing a noise he looked up, hoping that it was Hermione returning home. Instead, he saw the little, grey-haired figure of Mrs Hamblin coming across the landing towards him. She was wearing royal blue today and didn’t look as happy as she usually did when she spoke to him. In fact, she looked rather serious. She was carrying an envelope. Draco hurriedly stood up to greet her.

‘Is your name Draco, dear?’ she asked kindly.

Draco nodded and said with a smile, ‘Yes, that’s me. I’m Draco Malfoy.’

Mrs Hamblin looked at him a little sadly as she held out the letter. ‘Hermione asked me to give this to you when you turned up. I’m really sorry. I liked seeing you, you’re a handsome young man and you obviously like Hermione a lot.’

Draco looked at her in confusion as he took the letter.

‘What do you mean—?’

‘Just read the letter, dear,’ Mrs Hamblin said sympathetically.

Draco opened the envelope, pulled out the parchment, and began to read as the old woman returned to her flat.

 

_Dear Draco,_

_First of all I want to thank you most sincerely and profusely for rescuing me from Michael’s house. I am aware that it was your job to do so and it wasn’t because of any special regard for me, but I will be eternally grateful to you and your team for getting me out of the scariest and most unpleasant experience of my life. I also want to thank you for helping me to get through those first few hours of freedom when I was so scared that Michael would find me and take me back. You were a wonderful support and you gave me so much that it makes it extremely hard to write this letter._

_I honestly didn’t know that you were married until Harry mentioned it in passing without having a clue what he had just done. If I had known on that first day I would never have come on to you the way I did and I would never have let things go any further than those few small kisses of gratitude, regardless of the desire I felt for you, which I still don’t really understand. I honestly don’t know if it’s true that you thought I knew about your wife, or that you were going to ask her for a divorce, but although I hope it is, a small part of me remembers what you were like at school and it just seems too much to hope for that you have changed as much as I thought._

_I tried to explain to you last night that I couldn’t continue to be in a relationship with you, but you wouldn’t listen to me, wouldn’t allow me to end things in the way I wanted. Instead, you steamrollered me into letting you stay, even though you knew I wasn’t happy about you being married. It has become quite clear to me that I am unable to end things when I see you face-to-face, as that strange attraction that I can’t control seems to take over, so instead, I’m using this letter to tell you that this thing between us, whatever it was, is over and I don’t want to see you again. I am not at home this evening and will not be returning to the flat. I am making arrangements to move and I strongly request that you don’t look for me._

_Go home to your wife and try to patch things up with her. There must have been a reason you married her, you just need to remember it and stop thinking about me. I am aware that this is going to be as difficult for you as it is for me, but if we just keep away from each other as we managed to do for the last ten years, I’m sure we’ll both be fine. Eventually, it will just seem like a strange and pleasant dream._

_Hermione_

 

Draco stared at the letter for several minutes, unable to comprehend what he had just read. Hermione had moved out to get away from him and had begged him not to try to trace her. He had known she was unhappy about his marriage but she was in love with him, as much as he was in love with her, so why would she do this, especially when she knew he was going to get a divorce? As Draco read the letter through a second time his heart sank even further as he realised that she didn’t believe him. Hermione thought he knew that she hadn’t known he was married, and she never believed he was going to divorce his wife. She obviously thought it was just a fling for him, not the serious relationship he was so convinced it was.

He scrunched the letter and envelope up in his hand, pain and anger coursing through his body as he thought about Hermione. He had just given up everything for her and she had dropped him, not willing to take a chance that he was telling her the truth. He glanced at the door to the flat. Now what was he going to do? Hermione had asked him not to look for her. If he ignored her wishes and tried to track her down he would be as bad as that bastard sitting in Azkaban. But if he didn’t find her his life wasn’t going to be worth living. Hermione was everything he wanted, how could she expect him to make a life without her in it?

Draco gave a loud sigh. Well, there was only one thing for it. He had to go home. He bent down and put the letter in his bag before picking it up, then he pulled his wand from his pocket and after a moment’s thought Disapparated with a loud pop.    

Mrs Hamblin opened her door and looked across the landing at Hermione’s door.

‘You silly girl,’ she said quietly, shaking her head. Then she went back inside and closed the door.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Draco felt the crunch of the gravel as he walked towards the house. In the distance, he could hear one of those bloody peacocks he’d always detested making a terrible racket. He honestly had no idea why his father liked the things so much, all they ever did was make noise, and not a pleasant one, either. He knocked on the door and waited dejectedly for a house-elf to open it. He knew his parents would be happy to see him, although what they would say when he told them his news he had no idea. It couldn’t be considered in any way ideal but at least he would have a roof over his head until he could find somewhere else to live.

The house-elf was pleased to see him and excitedly ushered him inside, sending him towards the drawing room where his mother and father were spending the evening. Draco turned down the offer of food and drink, and leaving his bag at the foot of the stairs he made his way to see his parents, knowing he had to at least say hullo.

‘This is a very pleasant surprise,’ his mother said happily as Draco entered the room. She opened her arms so he could go and hug her. ‘What’s brought you here this evening, Draco? Is Caroline with you?’

Lucius Malfoy studied his son as Narcissa fussed over him. It was clear from the look on Draco’s face that something was definitely wrong, although obviously there had to be for his son to turn up unannounced. The last time Draco and Caroline had come for lunch was almost two months ago and neither of them was the type for impromptu house calls.

‘Do you want to join us in a drink?’ Lucius asked. He indicated the drinks cabinet that contained a range of bottles and decanters as he stood up and moved towards it. ‘I’ve got rather a fine Scottish single malt that I would recommend. I received it only yesterday. It’s a 1957 Bowmore. Superb flavour.’

Draco nodded eagerly. ‘Yes, please, that would be great.’

Lucius poured Draco a measure of the dark amber liquid, added another measure to his own glass, then retrieved a bottle of Baileys from the cabinet.

‘Can you pass me your mother’s glass, please, Draco,’ Lucius said as he held out the glass of whisky to his son.

Draco took his mother’s glass and passed it to his father, then took his own drink, swirling the rich amber liquid around the glass.

‘So where’s Caroline this evening?’ Narcissa enquired. She looked towards the door as if expecting her daughter-in-law to join them at any second.

‘She’s at home as far as I’m aware,’ Draco said, keeping his voice neutral. He moved to take a seat as Lucius replaced the bottles in the cabinet and passed Narcissa her drink before taking his own place.

‘Is everything all right?’ Lucius asked. He stared at Draco.

Draco shook his head and sighed. ‘No, not really.’

Narcissa instantly looked worried. ‘What’s the matter, Draco? What’s happened?’

Draco considered his mother’s words as he took a sip of the whisky. It was truly magnificent, although it was always going to be considering what his father had probably paid for it.

‘I don’t think I really want to talk about it at the moment,’ he said sounding apologetic.

Narcissa looked anxiously at her husband, making a hinting movement with her eyes that Lucius should talk to him. Lucius took a sip of his whisky, savoured it for a moment, then looked towards his son.

‘Is everything okay with Caroline? Or is work causing the problem? You know you can talk to us about anything, Draco. We’re here to support you, whatever’s happened.’

Draco swirled the glass again before taking another sip. This was the downside of staying with his parents: having to talk to them about his life. What he really wanted was to fill his glass with the marvellous whisky and go to his old bedroom and mope around like a moody teenager, lamenting what Hermione had done to him and getting drunk in an attempt to forget all about it for tonight. What he didn’t want to do was to sit down here playing happy families and admitting to his hyper-critical father what a mess he had just made of his life.

‘I assume the problem is with Caroline, otherwise she would be here, too,’ Lucius continued, determined to root out the reason for his son’s unexpected visit.   

Draco stared at his father for a moment, then looked over at his mother, who still looked worried.

‘We’re getting a divorce,’ he admitted, sighing again as his mother gasped.

‘But why?’ Narcissa asked, sounding disappointed. ‘I always thought you and Caroline—’

‘Were so suitable for each other,’ Draco said bitterly. ‘Yeah, _so_ suitable. Except we’re not really compatible in any way. The only things we have in common, apart from our propensity to argue, are money and school House. Not exactly the best basis for a long and loving marriage.’

‘Your mother and I have managed perfectly well,’ Lucius pointed out.

‘But you were a couple at school. There was already love between you when you married. Caroline and I had affection and admiration for each other, sure, but not love. I don’t think we’ve ever really loved each other,’ Draco replied.

‘You have to work at marriage,’ Narcissa told him. ‘It’s not all moonlight and roses all the time, Draco. You have to make compromises and meet each other halfway. I’m sure you and Caroline can work things out if you just talk to each other.’

‘Things can be that good all the time,’ Draco retorted passionately. ‘I know they can because I’ve had a taste of it, and if the woman I love hadn’t just done a disappearing act on me then I wouldn’t be sitting here right now getting a lecture off you two about how I need to work at my marriage.’

‘The woman you love,’ Narcissa repeated, sounding shocked. ‘You’ve been having an affair? Did Caroline catch you? Gods, Draco, why did you have to be so selfish? You need to go home and apologise to her and tell her that it was a big mistake. I’m sure you can work it out.’

Draco ignored his mother’s babbling to look at his father. It was interesting that he, who usually had a myriad of advice for Draco that he never wanted to hear, hadn’t said anything yet about his infidelity.

‘Leave the boy alone, Narcissa,’ Lucius said chidingly as he looked back at Draco. ‘I’m sure Draco wouldn’t be here if he wanted to get back together with Caroline. He’s not an idiot and I’m sure he’s thought things through properly — has considered the ramifications of divorce from one of the most influential women in the country.’

‘But surely he can do something to stop it,’ Narcissa said.

Draco sat back and continued to sip his drink as he watched his parents discuss his marriage, seeming to forget that he was actually in the room with them. After a few minutes, when it seemed things were going to turn into an argument for them, too, he coughed to remind them he was there.

‘I asked Caro for the divorce,’ he stated as his parents looked at him, Narcissa in horror and Lucius with interest. ‘I’ve fallen in love with someone else and I want to be with her, not Caro, so I asked her for a divorce. She agreed it was for the best . . . as I said, we’ve never had the greatest marriage.’

He took another swig of the whisky, aware that this was not the way to treat such a great vintage single malt — confirmed as his father winced — but at the moment he didn’t care. He needed to dull the pain and it was all he had.

‘Everything should have been perfect . . . would have been perfect if I hadn’t been so bloody stupid,’ he admitted. Feeling sorry for himself now that the alcohol had started working, Draco added, ‘Instead, the woman I love has disappeared, convinced that I was just using her, and probably hates me right now. I’m not going back to Caro because I don’t want to be anywhere near her and I have nowhere else to go.’ He opened his arms, making himself a target. ‘So here I am, ripe and ready for you to take a pop at.’

‘And just who is this mysterious woman who’s suddenly become the love of your life?’ Lucius asked.

He stood up and took Draco’s empty glass from him, heading to the drinks cabinet where he poured him a large measure of a whisky considerably lighter in colour than the one they had been drinking. He returned the glass to his son.

‘Hermione Granger,’ Draco said despondently.

He took a mouthful of the whisky and grimaced as he swallowed it. It was still a single malt but without any of the refinement and aging of the older one he had just drunk. This was green and cheap and it wasn’t surprising that his father was giving it to him after what he had done with the Bowmore, especially as it was clear he just wanted to get drunk.

Narcissa looked confused as she mused, ‘Hermione Granger? I don’t think I know her. The name doesn’t ring a bell at all. Where are her family from?’

Lucius smiled coldly. ‘The Muggle-born. It took you long enough to work that out, Draco. What’s it been, ten years since you left school?’

Narcissa looked at her husband and then Draco in horror. ‘A Muggle-born? Draco, you can’t be serious. You haven’t honestly ended your marriage to Caroline for someone with no family and breeding. Please tell me it’s not true.’

‘You need to be careful what you say about Muggle-borns,’ Draco warned his mother coldly. ‘People aren’t very tolerant of old-school Pure-blood bigots these days, Mother.’

‘Don’t talk to your mother like that. She can’t help being surprised at your choice of partner,’ Lucius admonished. 

Draco looked at him. ‘I’m a little surprised that you’re not.’

Lucius shrugged. ‘It was obvious that you had a _thing_ for her when you were at school. All that arguing and name-calling. It didn’t take a genius to work out that you fancied her and felt guilty about it because of what she was. Why do you think I detested the girl so much? I didn’t want her turning your head and making you into a blood-traitor, as she obviously liked you, too. She was dangerous and far too clever by half, and I had to bring her down a peg or two to remind you what she was. I’m just surprised it took _you_ so long to work it out. Surely you must have realised while you were at school that what you felt for her wasn’t hatred, as you tried to pretend?’

Draco shook his head morosely. ‘Unfortunately, I did a brilliant job of fooling myself. I honestly did believe I hated Hermione. It was only when I saw her again that I realised what all that fighting was about and it was like love at first sight, although of course it had been years in reality.’

‘Are you talking about the rude, scrawny girl with the awful bushy hair that was at the Quidditch World Cup?’ Narcissa asked. Her nose wrinkled with disgust as she remembered. ‘Honestly, Draco. How on earth could you ever choose that monstrosity over Caroline? She didn’t have a clue about breeding, or even dress decently.’

Draco took another large mouthful of the whisky. He was beginning to feel a little light-headed and he wasn’t very happy with his mother’s assessment of Hermione.

‘That’s right,’ he said tetchily. ‘Hermione’s the one with the curly hair that likes to do its own thing. You might also remember her as the girl Aunt Bellatrix tortured here at the Manor.’

‘That’s enough, Draco,’ Lucius said warningly as Narcissa paled at the remembrance.

‘Oh . . . sweet Merlin, I’m sorry, Draco,’ Narcissa said quietly. She sounded really upset. Lucius moved to wrap his arms around his wife to comfort her.

‘No, I’m sorry, Mother,’ Draco answered, suddenly feeling guilty.

He knew his mother had never agreed with what his aunt had done and had been extremely upset about it at the time. It was unfair of him to rub it in her face as if she were the perpetrator just because he was upset at what she had said about Hermione.     

‘I think we all need to calm down a bit,’ Lucius said soothingly. He turned to Narcissa. ‘Although Hermione is Muggle-born, she is an extraordinary witch by all accounts. She has done a lot of good work in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and I understand from several of my friends at the Ministry that she’s tipped to be a future Minister for Magic, although whether she’ll achieve that if she’s got Draco here mooning over her is debatable.’

Draco scowled. ‘Are you saying I’m not good enough for her?’

‘I’m not saying anything of the sort, Draco,’ Lucius replied smoothly. ‘I’m just explaining to your mother that Hermione has changed somewhat since she last saw her. I haven’t seen her for a year or so myself, but she seemed to me to have improved immeasurably since school, looks-wise at least.’ He looked at Narcissa again. ‘I don’t think you would feel embarrassed to have her in our company, Cissy. She’s a pretty young woman and she dresses appropriately. Not quite as expensively maybe, but money isn’t everything.’

‘Do you mean you approve of this . . . this relationship?’ Narcissa asked her husband, sounding astonished.

Lucius nodded. ‘I just want Draco to be happy and I don’t think you need to be particularly insightful to understand that he and Caro weren’t the perfect match. If Hermione makes him happy I’m all for it . . . although I am a little concerned that there seems to be trouble in paradise if she’s run away already.’

Narcissa looked at Draco, who had been downing his whisky again and was looking blearily at the bottom of the empty glass. She looked meaningfully at Lucius.

‘Well, look at the time. I think I need to go to bed,’ she said chirpily. She handed Lucius her empty glass and stood up. ‘I’ll leave you two men to talk.’

She walked over to Draco and stroked a lock of hair back from his face as she looked at him adoringly. ‘It’s lovely to see you, Draco, whatever the reason,’ she said with a smile, and she bent to kiss him goodnight.

Draco stopped looking at the glass long enough to kiss her back.

‘Goodnight, Mother,’ he said, his voice slurring a little.

Narcissa released him, brushed the lock of hair from his face again, then moved to give Lucius a kiss before leaving the room. As soon as the door closed Lucius stood up and walked over to Draco. He pulled the glass from his hand and moved to refill it with the cheap single malt, which he gave back to his son. He poured himself another small measure of the Bowmore, then went and sat near Draco, looking at him intently.

‘So come on, then, Draco, tell me all about the lovely Hermione. You obviously need to get it off your chest — and you never know, I might even be able to help.’

He raised his glass as if in a toast and Draco clinked his own glass against it as he debated where to start.


	6. Chapter 6

‘Do you reckon Hermione is all right?’ Ron asked Harry worriedly.

They were sitting in the canteen waiting for Hermione to join them for a late lunch. She was currently running five minutes late.

Harry shrugged. ‘I think so. I think she’s just shaken by what happened with that Michael. It’s not really a surprise that it’s taking her a little while to get over it, considering what he did to her.’

Ron looked thoughtful. ‘Maybe . . . I suppose you’re right. She seemed rather eager to leave her flat, though . . . considering the bloke’s in prison, I mean.’

‘Yeah, that is a bit odd,’ Harry agreed. ‘Although I suppose she associates it with him or something.’

‘But why would she do that? She said he never went to the flat,’ Ron said.

‘I dunno, why do women do anything?’ Harry asked wearily. ‘She told you she was scared, didn’t she?’

‘Yeah — panic attacks and stuff, apparently.’ Ron looked down at his cup of tea and used his spoon to squeeze and remove the teabag. ‘Still, it will probably do her good to move. Hopefully, it’ll be a whole new start for her and she can forget about that creep for a while.’

‘Have you heard anything about when the trial’s going to be?’ Harry asked curiously. He added two packets of sugar to his coffee and stirred it vigorously.

‘No, not yet. I spoke to Hawkins in the Wizengamot Administration Services while I was down there this morning. He said that as far as he’d heard they hadn’t even managed to properly interview him yet. Every time they try to talk to him all he does is ask about Hermione and try to get them to let him see her. He won’t answer any of their questions. I think they’re considering putting up a charge of insanity for the time being just to make sure he stays locked away.’ Ron saw Hermione walking towards them. Warning Harry not to say anything more about Michael in case it upset her, he added quietly, ‘Watch out, here comes Hermione.’

‘Hey, Hermione, how are you doing?’ Ron asked with a smile. ‘You’re late.’

‘I know. I’m sorry,’ Hermione said apologetically as she flopped down in the seat next to Harry and opposite Ron. ‘I got caught by Lyndon Lufkin and you know how he always goes on.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Are you guys going to get something to eat? I’m starving.’

The three of them got up from the table and made their way to the food counter, picking up trays as they went. Once they were all safely back at the table Hermione took the teabag from her cup and took a small sip of the tea before cutting into the omelette she had bought for lunch.

‘So I’ve found a new place,’ she told the men, sounding upbeat. ‘It’s not quite as nice as the old flat but it’ll do, and it’s in a nice safe area. It’s got a security dwarf on the door and they have twenty-four-hour surveillance.’

‘That sounds good,’ Ron said, shooting Harry a quick look.

‘Do you need all that?’ Harry asked, looking worriedly at Hermione.

Hermione shrugged. ‘Probably not, but at least it’ll make me feel safe in the short term and it’s better to be safe than sorry.’

‘Yeah, I suppose you’re right,’ Harry agreed dubiously.

‘Anyway, I can move in there any time after Thursday, so I was thinking maybe next weekend?’ Hermione said hopefully.

‘Sounds good,’ Ron repeated, nodding his head, his mouth full as he spoke.

Hermione looked at him distastefully for a moment.

‘Actually, I’ve got a really big favour to ask you both,’ she said.

‘Well, there’s a surprise,’ Harry responded sounding amused. ‘Go on, then, what is it? I know: you want us to help you move. You already know we will, won’t we, Ron?’

‘Oh yeah,’ Ron said. ‘We were expecting to do that.’

Hermione looked at them pleadingly. ‘Will you pack up my stuff and move it for me while I wait at the new place? I don’t really want to go back to the old flat again.’

Harry stared at her. ‘Why not?’

‘Please, Harry, I just don’t want to go back there. I can’t explain it, but even thinking about it scares me.’ She sounded upset.

Ron put his hand across the table to take Hermione’s and he squeezed it soothingly. ‘Okay, we’ll do it, won’t we, Harry?’

Harry stared at Hermione for a moment but then nodded. ‘Yeah, of course we will. Are you sure you’re okay, Hermione?’

Hermione smiled at him. ‘Of course I am. I just really want to be away from the old flat.’

‘Don’t worry, you’ll be all settled in the new place soon,’ Ron assured her.

‘Thanks . . . both of you,’ she said gratefully.

They had all finished eating now and Hermione was looking aimlessly around the canteen. Draco and his team were walking through the room, heading for the coffee stand. Hermione’s heart clattered with panic and her stomach flipped at the sight of the gorgeous blond, although she tried hard not to show any difference in her manner outwardly. She grabbed her tray and stood up, desperate to leave before Draco spotted her.

‘I really need to get back. I’ve got a load of stuff to do for Lyndon and I don’t want him coming to talk to me again. It always holds me up. I’ll see you guys later.’

‘Okay. See you tonight,’ Harry answered.

‘Have a good afternoon. Lyndon’s after you,’ Ron said with a grin.

Hermione rolled her eyes again, then hurried off to dump her tray as far away from Draco as she could get. She raced for the door, worried every moment that he would see her and call out to her and she would be forced to go back and face him. As she emerged safely into the corridor she took a deep breath, relieved at having managed to escape. Realising that she had stopped and was still potentially within reach, she started walking again, speeding up to hurry back to her office. She was grateful that she hadn’t had to talk to Draco as it would have been too painful for her to cope with.

‘Hermione’s definitely not quite right, is she?’ Ron said as they watched their friend hurry away.

Harry shook his head. ‘No, you’re right — she’s not. It’s like she’s on the edge of hysteria or something. Perhaps we need to try to convince her to see a Healer. Maybe she needs to talk to someone about what she’s been through.’

‘You could have a word with her about it when you’re at home in the evening,’ Ron suggested.

‘Yeah, thanks, mate,’ Harry retorted dryly. ‘Perhaps I’ll have a word with Ginny about it and she can talk to Hermione. She’s less likely to get upset with her because she’s pregnant.’

‘Good plan,’ Ron agreed. He stood up. ‘Well, I need to go as well. I’ll arrange with you later about moving Hermione’s stuff. I thought I might go round there after work and start packing up as she’s not going to do it. What do you think?’

‘You do that and I’ll tackle her mental health,’ Harry promised.

‘Cool, see you later.’ Ron waved as he walked away, leaving Harry sitting alone.

Harry shook his head and sighed, then picked up his tray and dumped it on top of Ron’s. He picked the two trays up and carried them to the storage point.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Draco saw Hermione rushing out of the canteen and was fairly certain she was leaving to get away from him. It was almost automatic to call out to her, but as it became clear she was trying to avoid him, he let her go. Maybe if he gave her the space she wanted she would give him another chance eventually. Maybe. It was lovely to see her, though. It was the first time he had seen her since he left her on the day Caro had agreed to the divorce. He stared after Hermione, remembering better times when the two of them had been in bed together — happy and in love.

‘Are you okay, boss?’ the woman who had been in the dining room at Michael’s house asked when she saw his face.

Draco nodded. ‘I’m fine, Alice. Just thinking of something outside of work. If only we could work twenty-four hours a day, it would make everything so much easier, eh?’

The woman grimaced. ‘I spend more than enough time at this place as it is, especially at the moment with all these extra shifts we’re having to pull. No wonder you’re drinking double espressos, Bob. You must have been up for, what, almost two days now?’

Bob, the man who had been in Michael’s kitchen, shrugged. He looked shattered. ‘Yeah, something like that. I get to go home in an hour, though, thank Merlin.’ He looked into his coffee cup. ‘What’s the betting I’m not going to be able to sleep because I’ve drunk too much of this stuff?’ he complained.

Draco chuckled. ‘You want to try whisky, Bob. It works for me. I sleep soundly as a baby.’

‘Yeah, and then you have a stinking hangover and are really grumpy when you get into work,’ Bob pointed out. ‘I don’t need a hangover and I feel grumpy enough already.’

‘Fair point,’ Draco conceded. ‘Well, I’ve got another shift after this one, and I heard Yaxley saying that Ogden has gone down with some stomach bug or something, so it looks like I might end up pulling a triple. I’m just glad there aren’t any call-outs at the moment or I’d be seriously worried about our effectiveness.’

‘Well, don’t you overdo it or you’ll make yourself ill as well,’ Alice said worriedly.

‘Yeah, the last thing we need is you going down too, boss,’ Bob pointed out.

‘Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I’m just looking forward to Friday night. At the moment I’m not scheduled to work at all this weekend and I’m fully expecting to sleep through all of it,’ Draco told them gleefully.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Harry was seriously impressed at the amount of packing Ron had managed to get done in the three evenings he had been to Hermione’s flat. It certainly made the job a lot easier for them today. He and Ron moved all the furniture first, with the help of Dean who had come to give them a hand for a couple of hours before going off to football.

Then Ron stayed at the flat and continued to pack while Harry moved the boxes to Hermione’s new home, where she and Ginny were waiting to unpack. It was working well so far, and at the rate they were going Harry thought it might only take another couple of hours before they were finished.

Ron yawned as he moved yet another box onto the landing. He was still marvelling at how much stuff Hermione owned; it had never looked like that much when he had visited in the past. No wonder she hadn’t wanted to come back here and pack. She probably just couldn’t face all the hard work.

He stretched, trying to straighten a kink out of his back, then jumped with shock as he realised he wasn’t alone. A small old woman with grey hair and twinkling blue eyes wearing a long black velvet robe was watching him intently. Ron smiled at her uncertainly.

‘What’s happening?’ the old woman asked interestedly, pointing towards the door of Hermione’s flat. ‘Where’s Hermione?’

Ron thought about it for a moment and realised that the woman obviously knew Hermione as they had been neighbours for years and Hermione probably wouldn’t mind her knowing that she had moved.

‘Hermione’s moved to a new flat,’ he told her. ‘We’re just packing and transporting her stuff for her. She’s at the new place getting settled in.’

The old woman looked pensive for a moment, then shook her head.

‘She’s making a big mistake,’ she announced confidently. She sighed and added, ‘Hermione needs to stay here and sort it out with him not run away and try to pretend nothing’s happening. It’s ridiculous behaviour.’

Ron looked confused as he asked, ‘Hermione should sort what out with who?’

The old woman looked at him suspiciously. ‘Are you her boyfriend, young man?’

Ron shook his head. ‘No, just an extremely old friend of hers who wants to know what you’re talking about. What is it that Hermione needs to sort out?’

The old woman looked much happier at hearing that Ron wasn’t Hermione’s boyfriend. She smiled at him again.

‘Tell Hermione from me that running away won’t help. It’s not going to make anything any better for her and it will never make her happy. She needs to face up to it and sort things out with him. It’s the only way she’s ever going to be happy.’

‘Right . . . okay,’ Ron said dubiously. ‘I’ll tell her. Should I tell her who you’re talking about?’

‘She already knows,’ the old woman said cryptically. ‘But you need to give her my message. You look like a reliable sort of chap, so make sure you do it.’

Ron nodded his head in agreement, hoping the obviously batty old woman would go away and leave him alone.

Harry appeared in the hallway with a pop.  

‘Don’t forget what I said,’ the old woman repeated sharply as she made her way back to her own front door.

‘I won’t,’ Ron promised.

He watched as she entered her flat and closed the door without looking back at either him or Harry.

‘What was that all about?’ Harry asked. He pointed at the closed door.

‘I dunno. That batty old woman came out to give me a message for Hermione. It was really cryptic, although she’s convinced Hermione will know what she’s talking about.’ Ron sounded a little disgruntled.

‘What’s the message?’ Harry asked.

Ron thought for a moment then said, ‘She said Hermione needs to stay here and sort it out with him not run away and try to pretend nothing’s happening. I’m supposed to tell her that running away won’t help. She said it’s not going to make anything any better for her and it will never make her happy. She needs to face up to it and sort things out. It’s the only way she’s ever going to be happy.’

Harry looked at him in astonishment. ‘Did she tell you who she was talking about?’

Ron shook his head. ‘No, because she said Hermione would know. But a “him”. I mean, surely it can’t be that creep in prison because she wouldn’t want Hermione sorting things out with him, but what “him” is she talking about? I didn’t know Hermione had another boyfriend . . . apart from that Michael. Did you?’

Harry shook his head, looking as confused as Ron as he tried to think who the woman could be talking about. ‘No . . . although . . . oh god, she’s not talking about Draco, is she?’ he asked slowly as he remembered Hermione gushing about the blond man who had rescued her. A nasty thought popped into his mind as he remembered their conversation and how upset Hermione had suddenly become, which he had assumed at the time was to do with Michael.

‘Draco — what, Draco Malfoy? Why the hell would she be talking about him?’ Ron asked in confusion.

Harry groaned as he realised what had to have happened. He rubbed his eyes behind his glasses as he said, ‘Oh god, I bet she is and _that’s_ why Hermione’s running away. That’s why she didn’t want to come back here. It’s got nothing to do with Michael or with being scared. She’s running away from Draco.’

Ron looked at him as if he was mad. ‘What the hell are you talking about, Harry? You’re making no more sense than that batty old woman. Why would Hermione be running away from Draco Malfoy?’

‘Because Draco was the one who saved her, wasn’t he?’ Harry said as if it was obvious.

‘Did he?’ Ron sound stunned. ‘Hermione never mentioned that Malfoy was part of the team that rescued her.’

Harry nodded, looking more convinced than ever. ‘Well, that proves it’s him. Hermione didn’t tell _you_ because she didn’t see you until after I’d spoken to her.’ He groaned. ‘Oh, god. What a bloody nightmare, and it’s probably all my . . . .’  He stopped, seeing that Ron still looked confused, and changed tack to try to explain. ‘Draco’s an Extractor and he was literally the one who rescued her. She said he was really nice to her afterwards, and I think she meant _really_ nice.’

Ron looked shocked. ‘You mean you think they—?’

‘Of course. It makes perfect sense,’ Harry blurted.

Ron shook his head. ‘No, it doesn’t. Why would they do something like that? They hated each other at school and that wasn’t likely to have changed, however long it was since they last saw each other.’

Harry shook his head, too, as he followed the trail of his thought to its logical conclusion.

‘No, they didn’t,’ he said, confident he was right.

‘Yeah, they did. Remember they were always fighting — he was always calling her horrible names. They were always at it,’ Ron reminded him.

‘But during all those years they never kept away from each other, did they?’ Harry said, now absolutely certain of what he was saying.

‘What do you mean?’ Ron asked.

Harry was excited now. ‘Think about it logically, Ron. They didn’t hate each other — they fancied each other. But because of the way things were back then . . . with the way Draco’s family were and with Hermione being Muggle-born they _couldn’t_ fancy each other, so they used to fight — it meant they were still together, but instead of being a couple they pretended to hate each other. They probably didn’t even realise at the time.’

‘That’s rubbish,’ Ron contested. ‘If he fancied her as much as you reckon, why did he let Bellatrix torture her?’

Harry stared at him. ‘Come on, Ron, he didn’t have any choice, did he? I don’t think he’d have been able to stop that mad bitch, and he was surrounded by family and threatened with a visit by Voldemort. He was probably too scared. Let’s face it, he wasn’t much of a hero when he was at school, was he? And that’s probably why he got such a dangerous job — to make up for being such a coward when he was at school.’

‘Yeah, I suppose you’re right,’ Ron said quietly. He didn’t look convinced.

Harry knew his friend was dubious but was determined to convince him. ‘No, honestly. I’m sure I’m right. That would explain perfectly what’s happened now.’

‘What _are_ you talking about?’ Ron asked frustratedly.

‘Look, it all makes sense if you think about it in the context of what I’ve just said. Draco saves Hermione from Michael, and while doing so he realises that he still fancies her and is affected by what she went through. It makes him even more likely to want to protect her, which probably increased the attraction even further. Meanwhile, Hermione still fancies him and is extremely grateful he saved her, which would increase his attractiveness to her. They end up . . . oh, I don’t know . . . oh, yeah, of course . . . they end up in bed and it’s great.’

‘Great?’ Ron looked at his friend with sceptical amusement.

‘Yeah. It’s really good between them. I mean, want-to-be-together-forever good,’ Harry replied fervently.

‘Right. I’m with you so far . . . I think. So why’s she running away from him if everything was so great and they want to be together forever?’ Ron asked, frowning.

Harry stared at him. ‘Because he’s married, isn’t he?’

Ron stared back. ‘What? What do you mean, he’s married?’

‘Didn’t you know, either? Blimey, he married that Caroline Foster or whatever her name is. Incredibly rich girl with long blonde hair who used hang around with Pansy Parkinson,’ Harry said, wondering whether he had been living on a different planet to his friends. How was it possible neither of them had known?

‘Oh, yeah, that’s right,’ Ron said, nodding. ‘I remember the papers saying that once he gets his inheritance from his parents he’ll be the richest wizard in Britain or something because of their combined wealth.’ He looked at Harry in horror. ‘Oh, shit. Are you saying Hermione didn’t know he was married and she slept with him?’

Harry nodded, looking rueful. ‘I think that’s what happened,’ he admitted, ‘and I was the one who told her.’

‘Told her? What do you mean, you told her?’ Ron asked.

Harry sighed. ‘Hermione told me she had seen Draco, that he was the one who rescued her and that he had been really nice and had looked after her really well. It didn’t ring any alarm bells with me at the time and so without thinking I asked if he had mentioned his wife or whether he’d had children yet. She was a bit strange after that but I didn’t think anything of it, at least not in relation to him. To be honest, I thought she was upset about Michael still — but of course, if she thought there was something between her and Draco, imagine what it was like when she discovered he was married.’

‘Oh gods, that bastard. I can’t believe he slept with Hermione when he was married. He was always a real tosser and he obviously hasn’t changed,’ Ron said angrily.

‘But he probably thought she knew — I mean, let’s face it, the wedding wasn’t exactly kept a secret, was it? It was the wedding of the century. It’s not really surprising that he would expect her to know,’ Harry replied reasonably.

Ron shook his head. ‘He still shouldn’t have done it. He’s a married man. He had no right to lead Hermione on like that.’

‘Perhaps it just happened,’ Harry said. ‘They had both been through an extremely stressful situation and Hermione was terrified. He helped her through that; she said he was wonderful.’

‘That’s no excuse. He should have had more self-control. He used Hermione’s vulnerability to take advantage of her,’ Ron countered.

‘But going back to what I said before, I think Draco’s in love with Hermione. I think he always has been, and their reunion triggered the feelings that had been lying dormant in both of them for all those years,’ Harry explained.

‘So if he was so in love with Hermione, why did he get married to someone else, then?’ Ron asked a touch belligerently.

Harry sighed. ‘Oh, I don’t know, Ron. Maybe he had to. Maybe he thought he’d never have a chance with Hermione. Or maybe he’d quashed his feelings so effectively that he didn’t even realise they were there until he saw her again.’

‘Well, whatever he feels for her doesn’t make it right,’ Ron said.

‘Even if she feels the same way about him?’ Harry asked.

‘She doesn’t, though,’ Ron said hurriedly.

Harry looked at Ron, curious at his response. ‘Really? What makes you think that?’

‘Of course she doesn’t. She obviously moved because she wanted to get away from him,’ Ron retorted.

‘Yeah, but only because she found out he was married — there was no sign of her wanting to move home before that. If it was the stalker she was worried about as she keeps saying it is, she would never have gone home in the first place. All this not wanting to come back to the flat is because she’s worried Draco’s going to be waiting for her. Which means she did a disappearing act without telling him,’ Harry pointed out. 

Ron looked at his friend for a moment as he tried to process everything Harry had said.

‘So you reckon she loves him, too?’

Harry nodded. ‘Yes, I do, and I think she was upset when she found out he was married and her natural response was to flee so he couldn’t hurt her again. You remember Stefan and what happened there.’

Ron scowled at the mention of Hermione’s ex-fiancé. Just the mention of the man’s name still made him angry. Forcing the thought of Stefan away and turning his mind back to Draco he sighed.

‘If that’s true, what are we going to do about it?’ he asked seriously. ‘If Hermione really is in love with Draco she’s going to be miserable forever, isn’t she?’

‘Unless we can find a way to get them together again. That neighbour of hers is right. Hermione should never have run away. She should have stayed and sorted it out with Draco instead,’ Harry said.

‘But he’s still married,’ Ron reminded him.

‘At the moment he is. But if Draco feels about Hermione the way I think he does, he isn’t going to want to stay married for much longer. Anyway, his marriage can’t have been that great otherwise he would never have slept with Hermione in the first place.’

‘If he did,’ Ron said. ‘This is all just your supposition, after all.’

Harry looked at him. ‘You don’t think I’m right? So what’s your theory?’

Ron shrugged. ‘To be honest, I dunno what to think, Harry. I just know she’s unhappy and I don’t think this move is going to sort it out.’

‘I think we have to get them back together — to talk, at least, if nothing else. Hermione needs to stop running and talk to Draco,’ Harry said.

‘Well, I’m not suggesting it to her. I want to keep my balls,’ Ron said with a wry grin.

Harry sighed. ‘I’ll talk to her about it once she’s settled in and see if I can get her to talk to him.’

‘Maybe you should talk to Draco first,’ Ron suggested.

Harry shook his head. ‘ _You_ can talk to him, I’ll talk to Hermione. Between us we must be able to convince them to talk, surely?’

‘I don’t know whether I hope you’re right or wrong about this,’ Ron said.

‘I know exactly what you mean,’ Harry agreed. He sighed once more. ‘Well, I suppose we’d better get on. Hermione will be wondering where I’ve got to.’

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ron spent a lot of time considering what Harry had told him about Hermione, and although he tried to think of another explanation there was nothing that made any sense. As horrific as he found the idea, especially after everything Malfoy had done to Hermione in the past, he had to get used to the fact that it was almost certain his best friend was in love with the blond ex-Slytherin — and worse still, that it was quite probable she had fancied him all the time they had been at school.

As he and Harry had suspected would be the case, Hermione’s moving hadn’t done anything much to cheer her up, although she did seem a little less scared. But since he knew now that this wasn’t her primary reason for moving, it didn’t assuage his disgruntled feelings much.

Eventually, he decided he had put off talking to Draco long enough and so he went to find him. He was actually interested to see the man again to see how he had changed in the decade since they had last spoken, and Ron, like Harry, was also interested to discover what had made Draco decide to become an Extractor. 

It was almost impossible to get hold of Draco during normal working hours as the Extraction teams worked shifts and were a cagey bunch at the best of times. But Ron finally managed to track the man down in the canteen late one night after he returned from a raid, desperately needing a cup of tea and some food before going home to bed. He had been surprised to see Draco sitting alone in the canteen nursing a large cup of coffee and looking at least as morose as Hermione did these days.

Once he had grabbed himself a sandwich and a cup of tea Ron made his way through the sparsely populated room and sat down at the table opposite Draco.

‘This table is already occupied, in case you hadn’t noticed,’ Draco said coldly. His voice sounded rough and tired and he stared at the table, refusing to lift his head.

‘I want to talk to you,’ Ron said as he stirred his tea and pulled open the packaging on his sandwich.

‘Maybe I don’t want company at the moment,’ Draco informed him.

‘Why’s that? Feeling guilty, by any chance?’ Ron retorted, unable to stop the dislike he had always felt for the Slytherin from rising. He took a bite of his sandwich as he forced himself to calm down.

Draco glared angrily at Ron. ‘What have I got to feel guilty about, Weasley? Why don’t you just leave me alone? I didn’t ask for your company.’

Ron managed to stay calm as he watched Draco sink the rest of his coffee. ‘No, you didn’t, but you’re getting it anyway. I want to talk to you about Hermione.’

‘If you’ve come to thank me for saving her, don’t bother. It was all part of the job. It was an easy extraction which the team performed perfectly. The abductor is safely in Azkaban and she’s free to go about her business without any worry of further harassment from him,’ Draco replied matter-of-factly, his heart beating faster at the thought of Hermione. He stood up. He needed to get away before he lost his temper. ‘If you want to know more, the report’s been filed.’

Draco walked off towards the exit. Ron grabbed his sandwich and hurried after him.

‘I haven’t finished, Malfoy.’

Draco looked back at him, his face drawn and weary. ‘Well, I have. I’ve got another three hours to get through after a thirteen-hour double shift before I can finally go home and get some sleep and I don’t need you bending my ear. Go away, Weasley.’

Ignoring Draco’s request, Ron continued to follow him down the corridor. 

‘What did you do to Hermione?’ he asked.

Draco ignored him and carried on walking. He ran up a flight of stairs and along another corridor, hoping Weasley would give up and leave him alone as he really wasn’t in the mood for talking, especially about Hermione.

‘Don’t ignore me,’ Ron said, feeling his temper rise as he followed Draco. He threw the sandwich in a bin and sped up to keep pace with the rapidly disappearing man. ‘What did you do to Hermione?’

Draco sighed, stopped walking, and stared balefully at Ron.

‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. Now leave me alone.’

Ron grabbed Draco’s arm as he started to turn away. ‘Oh, come on, Malfoy, don’t play dumb with me. What did you do to her?’

Draco shrugged and sighed. ‘You’ve got the wrong bloke, Weasley. I didn’t do anything to her. That nutter’s locked away in Azkaban.’

Ron stared at him in disbelief. ‘No, he isn’t. You really think you did nothing? Didn’t you have sex with her even though you’re married?’

‘What’s it got to do with you? It’s none of your business. Hermione and I are both adults,’ Draco replied belligerently, trying to keep himself from hitting Weasley as he knew it wouldn’t help in the long run, even if it would make him feel better for a few minutes.

‘Hermione’s my friend,’ Ron said, ‘and I care about what scumbags like you do to her.’

Draco snorted. ‘Yeah, right, of course, she’s your friend and you care about her so much, don’t you?’ He stared maliciously at Ron. ‘What’s the matter, Weasley, are you jealous that she finally found herself a real man?’

With a roar, Ron grabbed Draco and pushed him up against the wall, one large hand on his chest and the other around his throat.

‘I should smash your face in, you evil little snake. I don’t know what you did to her, you bastard, but I know you did something to upset her and you’re going to pay for it.’

Draco pushed at Ron, trying to throw him off, although he was leaner and shorter than his attacker. He was trying desperately to keep his temper in check, knowing that as tired as he was it wouldn’t take much for him to lash out. With his special training Weasley wouldn’t stand a chance and could end up seriously injured.

He wasn’t even sure what the man wanted from him. Hermione had obviously told him about what they had done, but he wasn’t sure what Weasley expected him to do. He had nothing to apologise for, especially not to him, and Hermione had made it clear that she didn’t want anything to do with him so he was keeping away, just as she wanted, however much it hurt him to do so. 

‘I didn’t do anything to Hermione. I don’t know what she’s told you about it, but she was the one who left, not me,’ Draco said agitatedly. He pushed against Ron again. ‘Let go of me, you bloody gorilla.’

Reluctantly Ron released Draco and stepped back.

‘So, what, you’re saying there’s nothing between you and Hermione?’ he asked, sounding disbelieving. ‘You don’t think having sex with her counts as something?’

Draco stared at him for a moment, then he sighed, seeming to deflate as he admitted, ‘That’s right, there’s nothing between us. There might have been, and I wanted there to be, but Hermione ran away. She decided she didn’t want what I was offering.’

‘That’s not really surprising considering _what_ you were offering,’ Ron said.

‘Look, I understand you care about her but I’m not the bad guy in this, Weasley. I’m in love with Hermione and I told her that. Unfortunately, that doesn’t appear to be enough for her so I’ve backed off and I’m leaving her alone . . . _just as she requested_.’ Draco’s voice was bitter as he recounted the final sentence.

‘Maybe that has something to do with you being married,’ Ron pointed out coldly.

Draco shook his head. ‘I _was_ married. I’m getting a divorce. It’s all agreed, I’m just waiting for it to go through.’

Ron stared at Draco in surprise. Although he had sort of bought into Harry’s theory about Hermione and Draco and their unrequited love, his natural and long-held enmity for the Slytherin hadn’t allowed him to really believe that Draco wasn’t a love rat who was just using Hermione for his own pleasure.

He had been convinced that the man had no intention of ending his marriage, despite Harry’s assertion to the contrary, and was sure this was why Hermione had run away from him. Yet here Draco was, looking an absolute mess, which was clearly caused by a bad attempt at trying to forget about Hermione by working too hard — and drinking too hard, too, if his rheumy eyes were anything to go by — admitting to Ron that he had ended his marriage for her even though she had ended things between them.

Ron fought down the sudden sympathy he felt for Draco.

‘Was that before or after you slept with Hermione?’ he asked. 

‘It was after. But I didn’t go after Hermione deliberately if that’s what you’re thinking. It just happened between us. It wasn’t planned or anything,’ Draco admitted.

‘So, what, you’re saying you never meant for it to happen?’ Ron shot back sarcastically. ‘I suppose it was all a big mistake, was it?’

Draco looked hurt at the inference. ‘No, it definitely wasn’t a mistake. It wasn’t planned, but it was still the best thing that’s ever happened to me.’

Ron stared at him in surprise. ‘What do you mean, it’s the best thing?’

Draco sighed, knowing he had no choice but to explain. He glanced at his watch, then indicated a door down the corridor.

‘If you want me to explain you’ll have to come with me because I need to get back to the office. I’ve left it unmanned for too long.’

Ron followed Draco down the corridor, waiting while he unlocked and unwarded the nondescript door, interested to see what the Extraction section looked like. He was disappointed to discover that it didn’t really look much different from his own office, except for a row of leather uniforms hanging on hooks on one side of the room. Draco sat down at his desk and indicated a seat the other side that Ron should take, then looked down at the messages he had scooped off the floor and dumped on the desk on his return. Deciding that there was nothing that couldn’t wait for a few minutes, he looked back at Ron. 

‘Do you actually know anything about what really happened between us or have you just heard vague hints from Hermione and concocted some stupid scenario off your own bat?’ he asked.

Ron shrugged and admitted, ‘Hermione hasn’t said anything about you at all, but when we were moving the stuff from her flat the other day the woman next door said a few things that got Harry and me thinking.’

‘And so you put two and two together and came up with Draco Malfoy as a lying, cheating love rat, yeah?’ Draco asked, feeling aggrieved.

Ron looked a little uncomfortable for a moment. ‘Well, we worked out that you had obviously had sex, and Harry realised he had told Hermione that you were married. From there it wasn’t too hard to work out that she ran away because she was unhappy about what you did to her.’

Draco sighed again. ‘Fine. I’ll tell you exactly what happened between us, Weasley. It’s up to you to decide whether you want to believe me or not, but I’m not going to lie to you. I don’t believe in lying; it doesn’t solve anything.’

‘Okay,’ Ron said, trying to put aside his ingrained dislike of Draco. ‘So tell me. I’m interested to hear what you have to say.’

Draco thought for a moment before he started speaking again. ‘I honestly never realised how much I fancied Hermione until the day I rescued her. She was so frightened and upset and I just wanted to make her feel better. I wanted to wrap her in my arms and keep her safe so she would know she had nothing to fear from arseholes like that Antenucci, because I would stop them. But there was something there, something between us that I couldn’t quite quantify. It wasn’t until later, when I thought about it properly, that I understood that our desire for each other stemmed not from what was happening then — although that definitely helped to fan the flames — but from when we were at school. I realised that all that fighting and stupid stuff was because I was in love with Hermione, not because I hated her. I had locked it away, not wanting to admit to my feelings because of all that stupid crap I believed in back then. Seeing Hermione again in such an inflammatory situation . . . it had the effect of a volcano.’

Ron nodded, looking serious. ‘That’s what Harry thought, too. He was convinced that you had a thing for each other at school, despite appearances. I have to admit I wasn’t convinced.’ 

‘Well, he knew more than me, then,’ Draco admitted. ‘I didn’t know when we were at school. I genuinely thought I hated Hermione in the same way I hated you and Potter, but looking back on it I realise it was nothing like that. Even my father understood what was going on before I did. That was why he was so awful to her all the time and why he let Aunt Bellatrix . . . .’

He broke off for a moment, looking ravaged by the thought of what had happened to Hermione at the hands of his aunt.

‘Gods, you have no idea how guilty I felt about letting that happen to Hermione.’ He gave a harsh bark of a laugh and shook his head with disbelief. ‘You’d have thought that would have been enough to make me understand what I truly felt for her, wouldn’t you? But it wasn’t. It was only when I saw her in that dark, oppressive house that my true feelings for her finally emerged, and even then I didn’t understand it.

‘When things got more sexual between us — and I want to point out here that I was not the one who made the first move — I’ll admit I did hesitate for a moment, both because I was worried I was taking advantage of Hermione given the situation she had just been rescued from and because I was married. But I wanted her so much, and she wanted me, too, so I went with it. I honestly didn’t realise she didn’t know I was married — I thought everyone in the whole bloody wizarding world knew after all that palaver in the papers. I just assumed she wasn’t mentioning it because she didn’t want to be reminded. By the time I went home I knew I was completely in love with Hermione and that my marriage, such as it was, was over.

‘But we’d only been together once, and although I knew how I felt I wasn’t sure if Hermione felt the same way about me. So I went to see her again and it confirmed what I knew: that we were supposed to be a couple because we were perfect together. I was so elated I was almost giddy, and I decided it was time to seek a divorce from Caro. I didn’t mention it to Hermione, though, because I thought it was a bit early to start talking about marriage after only a couple of days together, especially after Antenucci.

‘I didn’t expect to have much of a problem getting Caro’s agreement as our relationship has always been one of duty rather than love. Having been with Hermione I knew I couldn’t stay married to Caro, even if Hermione ultimately decided she didn’t want to be with me — although I was convinced that wasn’t going to be a problem, as she clearly felt the same way as me. I went to see Hermione the evening she started back to work expecting the promised home-cooked meal and armed with the good news about my decision to get a divorce, but when I got there she was upset and withdrawn and was suddenly fixated on Caro.’

‘Because Harry had told her you were married,’ Ron said quietly.

Draco nodded. ‘I guess that must have been it, but of course I didn’t know he had spoken to her about it and I couldn’t understand why she was so upset. I thought she knew I was married and was at a complete loss to understand why it was suddenly such a problem, especially as I’d decided to leave Caro for Hermione. It took ages to get her to open her door. That neighbour you mentioned, Mrs Hamblin, was so sweet. She kept coming out to give me support and keep me trying to get through to Hermione.

‘Eventually Hermione did let me in. I apologised because I really hadn’t tried to deceive her, and I thought I had explained myself properly. I really thought she had forgiven me, she let me into her bed and it was every bit as wonderful as every other time we had made love. I even stayed with her all night because I didn’t want to leave her, didn’t want to go home. When I left in the morning everything seemed fine and we arranged for me to come round in the evening, by which time I would have told Caro that our marriage was over.

‘I kept to my side of the bargain. As soon as I finished work I went home and told Caro that I wanted a divorce. She wasn’t too happy to begin with, and not surprisingly wasn’t pleased that I had been seeing Hermione. But eventually, she agreed to let it go through uncontested as she knew she didn’t have much choice. I went straight over to Hermione’s flat to tell her the good news but she was gone.

‘She left a letter with Mrs Hamblin, basically telling me that she didn’t believe I was sincere in my feelings for her. She accused me of knowing that she didn’t know about Caro and that I had no intention of getting a divorce; then she said she didn’t want to see me any longer and I wasn’t to try to contact her in any way. It’s driving me mad because I want to talk to her so badly, but I can’t go anywhere near her. I don’t want her to think I’m another stalker.’

‘You know the reason she doesn’t want to see you is because she feels you made her look stupid, don’t you?’ Ron told Draco. ‘She was already feeling embarrassed about falling for Michael after what happened with him, and then you come along and make her feel twice the fool.’

Draco looked pained. ‘But I honestly didn’t. I’ve just explained to you what happened. Surely you can see it was a complete misunderstanding on my part. It certainly wasn’t meant maliciously. I wasn’t trying to take advantage of Hermione. I would never do that to her.’

Ron sighed. ‘I know, and I can see where you’re coming from, but I’m not Hermione.’

‘No, but you could talk to her on my behalf. You could explain to Hermione what really happened and make her see how much I love her.’ Draco looked pleadingly at Ron and it made him uncomfortable to hear the begging tone in the blond man’s voice. ‘Please, Weasley, will you talk to her for me?’

‘Harry’s going to talk to her to try to get her to open up about what happened and hopefully, convince her to talk to you, but I’ll also try to talk to her. I can’t promise anything, though,’ Ron said.

‘Thank you so much,’ Draco said, overwhelmingly grateful at the possibility that Ron might be able to help him get Hermione back. The stress he had been under for the last few weeks combined with his fatigue threatened to emerge in the form of tears and he fought hard to combat them, not wanting to embarrass himself in front of Weasley.

For a moment Ron thought Draco was going to cry and he suddenly felt embarrassed at being there. He hurriedly looked around the room again.

‘So what made you decide to join the Extraction Service?’ he asked, hoping a change of subject would return Draco to his usual belligerent self.

‘After all that stuff with Voldemort was over I felt pretty useless,’ Draco admitted. ‘The Malfoy family name had taken a bit of a beating and I didn’t really know what to do with myself. I wanted to do something that would help people, to make up for all that Death Eater crap. But I’m not really a people person, if you know what I mean, and I couldn’t be bothered with loads more years of studying, so becoming a Healer was out.

‘Originally I intended to join the Auror office like you and Potter, but then a friend of my father’s told me about the Extraction Service. He explained that it was a difficult job to get into involving a lot of specialist training and a wickedly gruelling set of tests, but I was feeling a bit reckless at the time and honestly had nothing better to do, so I thought I might as well give it a go. I was amazed when I actually got accepted, but I soon realised that extraction was my forte and it didn’t take me long to become a team leader.’

‘It’s really dangerous, though, isn’t it?’ Ron asked.

Draco shrugged. ‘It can be, and to be honest we do have a pretty high casualty rate. But I’ve been lucky so far: only three major injuries and about a dozen minor ones. It’s just part and parcel of the job. You get used to it and you just learn to take each job as it comes. It helps having a team you can trust, and I honestly believe mine are the best.’

‘So do you intend to stay in Extraction?’ Ron asked carefully. ‘I was just thinking that if you did manage to get back together with Hermione I don’t think she would be very happy about you putting yourself in danger all the time. Actually, I’m surprised your wife was happy to let you do it, especially when it sounds like you were just trying to make a name for yourself.’

Draco chuckled. ‘Caro didn’t have any choice. I was already doing the job when we married and I had no intention of giving it up for her. I think I needed it, in a way, to cope with the marriage and to make amends for all the crap I’d espoused when Voldemort was around. When she agreed to the divorce Caro told me that I should change jobs because it wasn’t fair to Hermione to keep doing what I’m doing, especially if we were thinking of having children.

‘As things currently stand I have no need to change jobs, and the danger is a challenge I relish. If by some miracle Hermione does give me another chance I will definitely have to think about stopping although it’s hard at the moment with so few uninjured Extractors available. I’ve been doing double and even triple shifts for weeks to ensure there’s always cover — although of course, that makes the operations themselves that much more dangerous when we’re all running on black coffee and adrenalin.’

‘It sounds to me like you need to take better care of yourself,’ Ron told him.

Draco shrugged and said honestly, ‘At the moment I find it hard to care, Weasley. I have no Hermione and I’ve only just managed to get away from living with my parents again. I moved in with them when Caro agreed to the divorce as I had no desire to keep on living with her. Life is just one long round of working and sleeping, but at least I have an interesting job even if it is a bit dangerous.’


	7. Chapter 7

Harry had been watching Hermione all evening and knew she wasn’t any happier. Her excuse for moving had obviously been just that and he was even more convinced now that his theory was right. He had given her plenty of time this evening to open up to him of her own accord, subtly suggesting ways she could begin the conversation, but he wasn’t prepared to wait any longer.

‘What’s going on, Hermione?’ he asked as he stared at her intently.

Hermione shrugged. ‘Nothing’s going on, Harry. I’m fine.’

Harry snorted. ‘I’ve known you for seventeen years so there’s no point in you lying to me because I know when you’re doing it. Come on, tell me what’s going on. I know there’s something wrong. You’re really unhappy.’

Hermione’s heart beat faster as she spent a few seconds considering what to say. She would be fine just as long as she didn’t mention Draco at all. She ran through several possible responses before settling on one that wasn’t actually a lie.

‘I don’t really like this new flat very much,’ she admitted. ‘It’s taking me a while to get used to it. Longer than I expected, actually. For somewhere that’s so safe, it seems awfully claustrophobic and restrictive.’

Harry shrugged. ‘Surely that’s the whole point of living somewhere where they keep an eye on you twenty-four hours a day.’ He waited for a moment, then added, ‘Perhaps you shouldn’t have moved from your old flat after all. Your neighbour said you were wrong to run away.’

Hermione stared at him worriedly, wondering what Mrs Hamblin had said to Harry and hoping desperately that she hadn’t mentioned Draco at all. As long as he was still only her dirty little secret she could lay the blame on Michael.

‘I needed to leave,’ Hermione said quietly. ‘You know I did. I might not be completely settled here but I’m much happier.’

Harry almost responded to that lie, but instead, he asked, ‘Who are you running away from, Hermione?’

Hermione could feel her heart clattering and her palms felt cold and clammy as she clenched her fists.

‘I told you, I didn’t feel comfortable there after Michael—’

‘He’s not the reason you shipped out so suddenly,’ Harry cut in accusingly.

‘I just couldn’t settle,’ Hermione retorted defensively.

Harry stared at her for a moment. More gently he said, ‘Come on, Hermione, talk to me. I know you didn’t leave your flat because you were scared of Michael or because you felt you needed protecting. You left because of something to do with Draco Malfoy, didn’t you?’

A look of panic crossed Hermione’s face for a moment, then she shook her head. Harry got up and moved to sit next to her on the sofa. He took hold of her hands, gripping them gently as he looked at her.

‘I’ve worked it out, you know,’ he told her kindly. ‘You were really happy when you first came back to work. You didn’t seem at all scared when you came to see me — if anything you were pretty flippant and dismissive of what had happened to you. But after I told you Draco was married your manner changed completely and you were really upset.

'Of course, at the time I put it down to mood swings associated with what you had been through, but then suddenly you wanted to move out of your flat because you were frightened, when that’s quite obviously not the case, and you’ve been running scared the whole time as if you’re hiding from someone. With Michael safely locked away and with no reason to be scared of Ron or me, that someone can only be Draco as he’s the only other man you’ve come into contact with recently.’

‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ Hermione mumbled unhappily. She looked as if she was about to cry.

‘But maybe you need to,’ Harry suggested gently.

Hermione shook her head forcefully. ‘No. It doesn’t matter, Harry. I was a stupid idiot and I won’t let it happen again.’

Harry squeezed her hands. ‘Tell me what happened, Hermione.’

Hermione stared at him for several seconds, her eyes full of tears. ‘You know what happened,’ she whispered unhappily.

Keeping his voice as sympathetic as he could manage, Harry posited, ‘You slept with him, didn’t you?’

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment as if trying to block out what Harry was saying, but then gave a small, sad nod.

‘And you really didn’t know he was married when you slept with him?’ Harry asked.

Hermione shook her head again. ‘No, I didn’t have a clue and Draco never said anything.’

‘Well he wasn’t really likely to, was he?’ Harry said honestly. ‘I mean, especially if he thought you knew.’

‘I know. But I feel so bloody stupid. I honestly thought he liked me, that there was something special between us. But the truth was that he was just using me for sex, Harry. He probably hates me as much as he did at school and thought it was funny that he got me into bed with him straight after I’d been abducted.’ Hermione’s voice was almost a sob as she finally admitted to Harry how she felt. ‘I bet he had a really good laugh about it with his mates, and I bet he tells his wife all the same crap he spouted to me.’

‘Did you hate him at school?’ Harry asked gently.

Hermione stared at him in astonishment. ‘You know I did, Harry. You know how badly he always treated me. Of course I hated him.’

Harry nodded. ‘You know that’s very interesting, Hermione. Because I remember how the two of you treated each other at school — all that fighting and arguing all the time — but at no point did either of you ever try to keep away from the other. It was almost like you both did it on purpose so you were always together. I don’t believe either of you really hated each other. In fact, I think you actually fancied each other but neither of you wanted to believe or admit it. Draco couldn’t because of his family, and you didn’t want to because of his stupid ignorant views.’

‘No. That’s not true,’ Hermione said, her voice too loud, the denial coming out too fast.

Harry paused for a moment, then shrugged. ‘Okay, I’m sure you know best. But I think Draco fancied you at school and I think that attraction was rekindled when he saved you.’ He looked into Hermione’s eyes to make sure she could see he was being serious. ‘Hermione, I don’t believe for one minute that he was using you or doing it to be mean, and I think that anything he told you he honestly meant.’

‘Why are you defending him? You hated him as much as I did. We all hated him,’ Hermione reminded him unhappily.

Harry shrugged. ‘You’re right, I _did_ dislike Draco and so did Ron, although for totally different reasons from yours. But as you told me, we’ve all grown up and we’ve all changed, and what you told me about Draco before you discovered he was married made me realise that he had obviously changed for the better . . . much better. I think there’s a very good chance he’s in love with you, just as you’re quite clearly in love with him. Your unhappiness is a testament to that, whether you want to admit it or not.’

‘But it doesn’t matter even if he does love me as you say. He’s still married and I can’t go there,’ Hermione pointed out.

‘Yes, it’s true that he’s married at the moment, but what’s his home life like? Is he in love with his wife or do they hate each other?’ Harry asked.

Hermione shrugged dismissively and Harry knew that she had no idea what Draco’s home life was like because she hadn’t given him a chance to explain.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said.

Harry sighed. ‘Of course it does, Hermione. There’s a lot of difference between him being happily married and wanting a bit on the side and being unhappily married and ready to give it all up for you. How can you know for sure which one it is unless you talk to him and find out?’

‘It doesn’t matter how he feels about me, he’s still married. Anyway, if he didn’t want to be with her he would have got divorced, wouldn’t he?’ Hermione said.

‘You know it doesn’t always work like that. Especially with those old Pure-blood families. You don’t even know whether they married for love or because of some sort of arrangement between their families.’

‘Well, it should work like that,’ Hermione snapped. ‘Anyway, I don’t care. I’m not interested in Draco Malfoy. It was a mistake that I just want to forget.’

‘Well, you’re not very happy for someone who doesn’t care,’ Harry pointed out.

‘Are you honestly surprised? Think of the way he’s treated me,’ Hermione retorted.

Harry sighed again. ‘Maybe you should give him a chance to explain his side of things. It might not be what you think.’

Hermione glared at him. ‘Draco had sex with me, and then when I told him I’d found out he was married he told me he loved me and was going to get a divorce. Of course, that’s what he was going to say. He was hardly going to tell me the truth, was he?’

‘So is he?’ Harry asked bluntly.

‘Is he what?’ Hermione asked tetchily.

‘Is he getting a divorce?’

Hermione snorted. ‘No, of course not. That’s just what he said to try to calm me down once he knew I knew about his wife. It was just cheap talk designed to get me back into bed with him.’

‘But how do you know it isn’t true?’ Harry asked.

Hermione sighed wearily. ‘It’s Draco Malfoy, Harry. You know what he’s like. He’ll say anything if it gets him what he wants. The truth is something he’s never been on very good terms with.’

‘So he told you he was getting a divorce and you ran away from him,’ Harry said, trying to get his head round it. ‘You never bothered to find out whether it was true first?’

‘He didn’t say he was _getting_ a divorce. He said he was going to tell his wife that he wanted a divorce. That’s a completely different thing. I’m not stupid. I know what that means,’ Hermione said miserably.

‘So because you were the only person in the wizarding world not to know Draco was married, you automatically believed he was lying to you when he told you that he wasn’t aware you didn’t know, and then that he was lying when he said he was going to get a divorce because he loves you,’ Harry said in disbelief. ‘Hermione, why have you made yourself so unhappy? If you’d given him the benefit of the doubt you would know one way or another whether he was telling the truth by now. Instead, you’ve got no idea and are punishing yourself and him for something Draco might not even have done.’

‘You think I was wrong to want to get away from him,’ Hermione said, her voice flat and cold.

‘I think your neighbour was right and you should have stayed in your old flat and sorted things out with Draco rather than running away from him,’ Harry answered. ‘Why don’t you talk to him? You can meet somewhere in public if you feel uncomfortable inviting him round here. At least you’ll find out one way or another and you can stop being so bloody miserable.’

‘Do you think finding out that he used me is going to make me feel less miserable?’ Hermione asked.

Harry shook his head. ‘No, but finding out that he really is in love with you and is willing to divorce his wife to be with you would cheer you up a bit, I would think. Come on, Hermione, just talk to him. You don’t have to agree to anything if you don’t want to — just talk it through.’   

Hermione thought for several seconds, then shook her head. ‘No, Harry. I’m sorry, but no. I don’t want to see or speak to Draco ever again.’

Harry sighed. ‘All right. If that’s the way you feel I won’t mention it anymore. But I honestly think you’re making a huge mistake.’

‘No, I’m not,’ Hermione told him adamantly, unwilling to discuss or even think about Draco any further.

 

 

* * *

 

 

‘Well, you were right, Harry. They definitely slept together,’ Ron said.

He took the beer his friend offered him and took a generous mouthful, leaving a foamy moustache around his mouth. He wiped it away with the back of his hand.

Harry sighed loudly. ‘I know, and the reason she ran away to that awful new flat she’s so unhappy in is because he’s married and she thinks he’s a liar. She won’t even concede there’s any possibility that she’s wrong about him.’

‘Draco told me he honestly didn’t realise that she didn’t know about his wife. He was adamant about that. He said he thought everyone knew about it,’ Ron replied.

‘I still think he’s got a fair point,’ Harry said.

‘Yeah, I suppose, but you’d think he’d have said something, wouldn’t you?’ Ron mused.

Harry looked at him interestedly. ‘Really? Would you have said anything if you were in his shoes, especially if you thought she knew and wasn’t saying anything because she didn’t want to remind you? Don’t forget they were only actually together for a couple of days, and I get the impression that it was all passion rather than rational talk.’

Ron looked uncomfortable for a moment. ‘No, I suppose not. I expect he probably didn’t want to think about his wife waiting at home, especially if he doesn’t like her very much.’

‘I honestly don’t think _she_ even entered his brain for one minute,’ Harry said. ‘I think he’s completely taken up with Hermione. Certainly, from what she told me he seems completely smitten.’

‘He definitely is,’ Ron confirmed. ‘He told me what Hermione did was a major shock as he thought things were going really well between them. They had arranged to meet the night she came to yours. That’s why she was so desperate not to stay at the flat, I suppose, and why she didn’t want to go back after work to get her stuff. Before he went round there he went home to ask his wife for a divorce, which she apparently agreed to, but when he got to Hermione’s to tell her the good news she had disappeared and had given that neighbour of hers a letter for him telling him to leave her alone.’

Harry sighed. ‘So he really is serious about this, then?’

‘Yeah, very. He moved back in with his parents rather than live with his wife any longer. He’s going through with the divorce even though he’s not with Hermione. He begged me to talk to her about it, to try to get her to give him another chance. It was really embarrassing actually, Harry. I thought he was going to cry when I told him I’d see what I could do,’ Ron said sounding uncomfortable.

‘Well, unfortunately, that’s never going to happen because I’ve already tried to talk her into meeting him and she’s refused point-blank to even consider it,’ Harry said. ‘She’s completely convinced herself that he was just using her for sex and won’t even consider for one moment that he was telling the truth. It’s totally ridiculous. After everything she said about people growing up and changing she’s still judging Draco on what he was like at school.’

‘Well, he’s a real mess,’ Ron stated honestly. ‘He’s working Merlin knows how many hours a week and he’s obviously drinking a lot, too, which I assume is a misguided and not very good attempt at trying to forget about Hermione. I was asking him about his job. He told me how dangerous it is, but I don’t think he cares at the moment. He just wants Hermione but doesn’t dare try to speak to her, because she told him to leave her alone and he doesn’t want to be seen as another stalker. He seems a pretty good guy these days and I felt really sorry for him, actually. I honestly reckon if we don’t do something to sort them out soon he’s going to end up killing himself . . . and I don’t think that would make Hermione any happier, would it?’

Harry gave a brittle laugh. ‘Hardly. I expect she would blame herself then. God, I can’t even begin to imagine how awful that would be.’

‘I can,’ Ron said flatly. ‘So we need to do something bring them together if they’re not going to do it themselves. We need to do this for our own sanity and peace of mind as well as theirs.’

‘And how do you suggest we manage that, exactly? You know how suspicious Hermione is,’ Harry said.

Ron considered Harry’s question while he was at the bar waiting to buy more drinks. When he returned he placed Harry’s pint in front of him, then took a swig of his own as he sat down.

‘Okay, I’ve got it. What we need to do is get Hermione into your office for some reason and then once she’s there I’ll bring Draco in. She won’t be able to run away from there and they’ll be forced to finally talk it out, with us there to break it up if it turns into a fight . . . although hopefully, it won’t.’

Harry looked at him uncertainly. ‘Hermione won’t be very happy when she finds out what we’ve done, especially as she told me there was no way she wanted to see him.’

‘Not at first, maybe. But she will once she realises Draco is serious about her. He wants to marry her, Harry, so surely that’s got to be worth risking her being a bit upset, isn’t it?’ Ron took another sip of his beer and said, ‘Anyway, do you honestly want Hermione hanging around like a wet weekend all the time, moping because she’s in love with Draco and won’t do anything about it? You know it’s not going to go away unless we do something to force the issue.’

‘No, of course I don’t. Even Ginny’s had enough of her — although I haven’t told her why Hermione’s so upset. She thinks it’s because of Michael still, and she can’t understand why Hermione’s reacting this way when he’s locked up and she’s living in the equivalent of Azkaban herself.’  

‘All right, so let’s do this, Ron said keenly. ‘We’ll arrange to go for lunch but we’ll meet in your office first. I’m sure you can think of a reason why we need to do that — say you’ve got a meeting or something and we can wait for you, you know the sort of thing.’ Harry nodded, although he looked less enthusiastic at the idea than Ron. ‘Get Hermione there first, then I’ll get there a couple of minutes after her and bring Draco with me — one of those “look who I bumped into, I thought I’d bring him along so we can say thank you for what he did in rescuing Hermione” type of things. As long as we don’t let her leave the office it should go like clockwork.’

‘What about Dean?’ Harry asked worriedly. ‘Although he knows about the abduction he doesn’t know about Hermione and Draco, and I’m pretty sure she’s not going to want him there taking notes.’

‘That’s okay. When I get Draco there you can mediate between him and Hermione while I take Dean outside. I’ll explain to him that you need a private chat with them both. That way it won’t look like it’s them talking, but you. I’m sure he’ll understand, he’s a decent enough bloke, and I’m sure I can come up with some blarney to cover it.’

‘Why do I have to be the one that mediates, Ron?’ Harry moaned. ‘You get the easy bit and I have to deal with the arguing lovers. How’s that fair?’

‘It’s your office, Harry. Dean’s not going to understand why I want to talk to Draco and Hermione alone in your office — I could do that elsewhere,’ Ron pointed out sensibly. He sighed. ‘Look, I know it’s not ideal but we’re never going to get Hermione to Draco’s office, even if we could get in there, which is pretty unlikely knowing that what that section’s like. And you know how busy my office is. She definitely wouldn’t appreciate the crowd in there watching and I’d never be able to get rid of them all. If we attempt to take him to her office we’ll all end up hexed into the back end of next week, so it’s got to be your office and that means you have to mediate, I’m afraid. Unless you can think of a better idea?’  

Harry thought about it for a couple of minutes while he drank his pint but unfortunately, couldn’t think of anything better.

‘Okay,’ he conceded with a sigh. ‘Let’s arrange it. When are we going to do it?’

Ron shrugged. ‘The sooner the better, I say. How about the day after tomorrow?’

Harry sighed again. ‘All right. But if it goes wrong, you’re the one who can take the flak, Ron. I’m just the mediator so you’d better not do a disappearing act on me when you get rid of Dean.’

‘I can’t see how it can possibly go wrong,’ Ron told him confidently. ‘You were right about them being in love with each other, we know that’s true, and if Hermione wasn’t so bloody stubborn they would already be together. We’re just giving them a little helping hand to straighten things out; giving Hermione the push in the right direction that she needs to realise that she’s been an idiot. So she thinks he’s a liar — the divorce has got to help change her mind on that, surely.’

‘Yeah, but you’ve only got his word for it that it’s actually happening,’ Harry reminded him.

‘We’re just going to have to trust him,’ Ron said.

Harry looked at him in astonishment. ‘I never ever thought I’d hear the day when you defended Draco Malfoy.’

‘I know, it’s weird, isn’t it?’ Ron said with a grin. ‘But I honestly think he’s sincere. As I said, he was almost crying when I talked to him.’

‘Yeah, Hermione was like that as well,’ Harry said.

‘So we’re agreed for the day after tomorrow, then?’ Ron asked.

Harry nodded his head. ‘Okay. Let’s do it . . . and let’s hope it works otherwise, Merlin only knows what we’re going to do because Hermione will kill us.’

 

 

* * *

 

 

Harry stared at the front page of the _Daily Prophet_. Unusually for them, the whole page was taken up by one story. Splashed across it in gigantic letters were the words ‘ _Draco and Caroline Malfoy to divorce_ ,’ with the story written in much smaller type below two large pictures of the unhappy couple, which the paper had thoughtfully tampered with to make it look like one photo being ripped apart when it was quite obviously two separate ones. The picture of Draco showed him in his work robes leaving the Ministry of Magic, a stressed look on his face. The picture of Caroline showed a smartly-dressed, beautiful, but unhappy-looking tall, thin blonde wearing big sunglasses who had clearly been snapped from a distance while out shopping with her friends.

He gave a Knut to the paper vendor and took a copy of the newspaper, wondering whether Draco had somehow arranged this. The timing seemed particularly fortuitous considering what was going to happen later. Before he had a chance to read the story further he was squashed into the lift, unable to raise the paper. He gave up, intending to wait until he got to his desk and had a cup of tea in front of him.

‘Did you see this?’ Dean asked gleefully. He was sitting at his desk and flashed the newspaper at Harry as he walked through the door of the office, heading towards his own desk. ‘I bet old Malfoy’s kicking himself. Serves the bastard right.’

‘Why would you think that?’ Harry asked, sounding confused. He placed his own newspaper on the desk and took off his outer robe, moving to hang it on the coat stand in the corner of the room.

‘Think about all the money he’ll be losing when she divorces him,’ Dean said happily. ‘And she’s a good-looking woman, too. She probably got fed up with him being such an arsehole.’

‘I don’t think Draco’s worried about the money. He’s plenty rich enough with the Malfoy fortune,’ Harry pointed out. He indicated the paper. ‘I haven’t had a chance to look at it yet. What does it say they’re getting divorced for?’

Dean squinted at the newspaper for a few seconds and shrugged. ‘Irreconcilable differences, it says. I dunno what that means.’

Harry released the breath he had been holding, relieved that adultery hadn’t been stated as the cause of their break-up. He didn’t want Hermione being dragged through the courts, and no doubt the newspapers, for being the woman who ended Draco Malfoy’s marriage.

‘That just means they can’t stand each other,’ Harry told Dean.

Dean looked vindicated. ‘See? I told you she got fed up with him. It’s still one in the eye for old Malfoy, though.’

‘What do you mean?’ Harry asked.

‘Well, it’s got to be pretty embarrassing for him knowing his old lady is so desperate to get rid of him,’ Dean confided. ‘Especially as it’s made the papers . . . although that makes up for all the weeks of crap we had when they got married.’ He stopped and grimaced. ‘Oh god, you don’t think they’re going to give us in-depth coverage of the divorce, do you?’

Harry found himself thinking that he hoped not, otherwise Hermione was bound to get dragged into it eventually. If he and Ron succeeded in their plan it wasn’t going to be hard for a newspaper photographer to get a picture of Hermione and Draco together. He wondered for a moment whether they should stop the lunchtime confrontation that was planned but knew it was too late.

Ron had already arranged for Draco to come in, even though he wasn’t on shift, and it was doubtful they would be able to contact him to stop it as he was so eager for it to go ahead. They just had to hope the newspapers would decide the story wasn’t sufficiently interesting, or that they would focus on Caroline and her pain rather than on Draco. It was possible they might get away with it as the Ministry of Magic wouldn’t be too happy about the face of one of their Extractors, one of the most secret branches in the Ministry, being splashed all over the newspapers.

‘Perhaps he’s the one who wanted the divorce,’ Harry pointed out sensibly.

‘Do you think?’ Dean studied the photo of Caroline again. ‘If that’s true, he must be mad. I wouldn’t want to divorce someone like her. She’s fine . . . and got loads of money.’

‘Money and looks aren’t everything, though, Dean. Not if she’s got a really crap personality. She might be really nasty. She was a Slytherin, remember.’

‘I don’t think I’d care, with that amount of money and those legs,’ Dean said with a grin.

‘That’s ‘cos you’re just a perverted gold digger,’ Harry retorted with a chuckle.

Dean laughed. ‘I definitely wouldn’t say no.’

‘Well, she’s back on the market. Maybe now’s the time for you to make your play. Have a word with Draco and maybe he’ll put in a good word for you.’

Dean looked sour. ‘I don’t think that will help if she’s divorcing him. Although maybe it is time for Dean Thomas to grab a piece of the limelight.’

‘Good luck with that,’ Harry said, grinning. ‘Do you want a cuppa? I’m just about to make one.’

‘Go on, then.’ Dean picked up his West Ham mug and held it out to Harry, who took it as he walked past.

As Harry walked down the corridor he thought again about the article in the newspaper. Had Hermione seen it? If so, what was she thinking at the moment? Was she excited because Draco was getting a divorce and would now be free to have a relationship with her and wasn’t the liar she had thought him to be, or was she unhappy because she had cut Draco out of her life and was now worried that he wouldn’t let her back in? Harry couldn’t help feeling that regardless of what he and Ron had planned it was a good thing they were meeting Hermione for lunch because it was possible she might be in a real state.

 

 

* * *

 

 

‘So you really did it, then?’

Draco looked at Ron with surprise.

‘Didn’t you believe I would?’ he asked coldly. ‘I told you it was all agreed — and I told you I’m not a liar.’

Ron shrugged. ‘Actually, I did. As astonishing as it seems, I think you really are genuinely in love with Hermione.’

‘Oh, I really am,’ Draco agreed fervently.

‘Well let’s just hope the front page of the _Prophet_ goes some way towards helping you with talking to her,’ Ron said.

‘I’m going to ask her to marry me,’ Draco confided.

Ron stared at him. ‘You’re not divorced yet and Hermione’s not even speaking to you. Plus you’ve only . . . well, you know . . . a couple of times. Are you sure a marriage proposal is the right thing to go in with?’

‘Definitely,’ Draco replied confidently. ‘I love Hermione and I’ve no intention of letting her get away. I know that despite what she said, she loves me, too. Anyway, I’m not talking about getting married immediately, obviously. We’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other better.’

He grinned lasciviously as Ron shook his head.

‘Just don’t muck it up,’ Ron warned sternly. ‘You’re only going to get this one shot with Hermione. If you don’t do it right you’ll lose her forever this time, and there won’t be anything Harry or I can do to bail you out.’

‘I’m touched by your concern,’ Draco said sincerely.

‘I’m not worried about you,’ Ron retorted. ‘It’s Hermione I’m worried about. I want her to be happy and unfortunately, it looks like you’re the one who’s going to do that for her, so I want you to get it right and not cock it up again.’

‘I appreciate it anyway,’ Draco said, then he smiled. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t do anything to upset or hurt Hermione. I promise.’

‘You’d better not, otherwise you’ll have me and Harry to deal with,’ Ron told him gruffly.

‘Hermione should be glad she’s got such good friends in you. I’m certainly glad,’ Draco told him.

Ron followed Draco through the door of the canteen and they walked slowly down the corridor. A few minutes later they were in the atrium, heading for the lifts.

‘Did you say that Hermione doesn’t know I’m coming?’ Draco asked.

Ron shook his head. ‘We didn’t tell her otherwise she probably would have done a runner again. She definitely wouldn’t have agreed to it. We’ve arranged to meet Harry for lunch and we’re going to meet him in his office. Hermione should be there in about—’ he broke off and looked at his watch — ‘five minutes or so. We’ll wait another few minutes to make sure she’s in there and then we’ll go and join them. Harry will distract her until we get there. They’ll probably be talking about the article in the Prophet, I expect.’

He pressed the button on the lift and they waited for it to arrive.

Draco looked around him, watching the various people wandering the halls of the Ministry of Magic. He actually felt quite nervous, which was strange because he didn’t usually worry about anything. But he couldn’t help wondering what would happen if Hermione still refused to talk to him. What would he do then? He was hopeful that wouldn’t happen. He wanted to believe that with the divorce announcement she would be happy to see him, but nothing was guaranteed. Not until he had Hermione in his arms again and was kissing her.

As they rode in the lift he thought of the front page of the _Daily Prophet_. Caro had obviously given them the story because she knew it would annoy him, and also probably because her father wanted it made clear that she was in no way to blame for the split, although fortunately, so far at least, she hadn’t mentioned Hermione. Citing irreconcilable differences was very good of her when she could have made it adultery — although to be fair, Draco had been extremely generous with the divorce settlement, so she could afford to be beneficent.

Caroline didn’t need money — she already had more than enough of her own — but there were lots of things she didn’t want to give up, so there had been some hard bargaining. Well, she thought there had anyway. Draco actually didn’t care. All he could think about was Hermione. If need be he would have gone to her barefoot with only the clothes he stood up in, if it meant he would finally get to make her his wife.

He hoped the newspapers weren’t going to make as big a deal about their divorce as they had about the wedding, although he suspected it would be just a flash in the pan apart from some later magazine articles on how the lovely Caroline was coping in the aftermath. There was nothing for the press to drool over the way they had over the wedding decorations and Caro’s dress, and the Ministry would probably make sure he was kept out of it as much as possible because of his job. They had no idea he was going to leave if Hermione agreed to marry him and he intended to keep it that way for the moment, as it would be useful to him to be protected for a while longer. He just hoped this morning’s headline would be as useful in bringing Hermione back into his arms.

‘Don’t blow it,’ Ron said again, just before they reached Harry’s office.

Draco looked at him archly. ‘I get the idea, Weasley, thanks all the same.’

‘Good luck, then,’ Ron said, and he knocked on the door before opening it and entering.

Draco took a deep breath, then followed him through the door. Hermione was in the office talking to Dean as Harry busied himself with something at his desk. She smiled when she saw Ron but her smile faded a little when Draco entered behind him. Draco felt his stomach roil with anxiety.

‘Not too late, am I?’ Ron asked loudly, completely ignoring the look on Hermione’s face. He grabbed hold of Draco’s arm and pulled him forward. ‘Look who I bumped into on the way down to you. I thought I’d bring Draco along as well so we can have a little commiseration . . . or should that be celebration?’ He winked. ‘Anyway, the more the merrier, eh? It’ll do us all good to have a nice lunch and a catch-up.’

Hermione looked like she was about to run. Her eyes darted towards the door and Draco wondered whether he should move there to try to cut her off. But after a moment she seemed to deflate a little as if accepting that she was stuck with him.

‘I see you’re on the front page today, Draco,’ Dean said with a grin. He held up the newspaper.

Draco shrugged and said dismissively, ‘I’m not sure how they found out. I assume Caro must have told them. It doesn’t really affect the outcome one way or another, it’s all already been agreed and decided, we just need it to go through legally.’

‘So what happened, then?’ Dean asked avidly. ‘Did she get fed up with you and chuck you out?’

Draco knew Hermione was watching him carefully and that his reply to Dean was going to be important. It was clear the man was after salacious gossip, and although Draco was inclined to be dismissive and tell him to mind his own business he was sure that wouldn’t impress Hermione.

‘Caro and I were a good match statistically but it never really worked out for us. She’s a nice woman but not really my type. The relationship wasn’t going anywhere but down, so we decided to cut our losses and separate.’

‘So she’s not got someone else, then?’ Dean asked a little too eagerly.

Hermione looked worried for a moment in case he should ask about Draco’s love life, too, but it seemed her friend was only interested in Draco’s wife.

Draco chuckled. ‘Not unless you know something I don’t, Dean.’ He looked squarely at him. ‘Why, are you interested in her?’

Dean laughed, too. ‘She’s definitely a beautiful woman. But I think she’s a bit out of my league.’

Draco studied him for a few seconds. Actually, Dean was probably someone Caroline would go for. She would certainly be interested enough to talk to him if he was brave enough to chat her up.

‘Oh, I don’t know. You’d be amazed at the sort of things Caro likes.’ He looked at his watch. ‘She’ll be at the National Gallery at the moment. She always goes there on a Thursday. She walks round the gallery for an hour or so — she’s got a real thing about Monet — then she has lunch in their dining room. She’s usually alone, so if you go now you can probably catch her as she goes in to dine. I warn you now that you’ll need to do all the running, Dean, as she’s pretty old-fashioned and definitely _not_ into making the first move. But you stand a pretty good chance, and if nothing else you’ll have a decent lunch with a pretty woman.’ Draco winked at Dean.

‘You mean I should go and see her?’ Dean said, sounding amazed. ‘And you don’t mind?’

‘Absolutely not. Nothing ventured nothing gained, eh? I told you, it was an amicable split. If you’re interested, go and get her,’ Draco told him.

‘Right, well, I’ll do that then,’ Dean said, sounding a little stunned. He dropped the newspaper onto the desk and picked up his jacket from the back of his chair.

‘I wouldn’t talk about the divorce, though,’ Draco warned. ‘Not unless she mentions it first. Otherwise, she’ll think you’re just trying to cash in and not flirting with her because she’s a pretty woman.’

‘Good advice,’ Dean said, sounding pleased. ‘Thanks for that. I’ll see you guys later. Have a good lunch.’

He hurried out the door with the others looking after him.

‘Did you just set him up for a fall?’ Ron asked accusingly.

Draco saw Hermione looking at him again with a frown on her face.

He shook his head. ‘No. Actually, I think Caro would rather like Dean. He’s good-looking and seems an uncomplicated sort of chap and he’d treat her as something special, which I’m sure she would rather enjoy because I certainly never treated her that way. I was right in what I said, though. He does need to make the first move. She’ll never talk to him first, even if she fancied the pants off him.’

‘That was a pretty decent thing you did for him, then,’ Harry said, sounding approving.

‘Well, hopefully.’ Draco looked directly at Hermione. ‘Hullo, Hermione, it’s so good to see you. I’ve really missed you.’

Hermione flushed slightly. ‘Why are you here?’

Draco smiled. ‘You know why.’

‘To have lunch with us,’ Hermione said.

‘I wanted to see you,’ Draco shot back.

Ron and Harry looked at each other, feeling the tension already beginning to build between the couple. With Dean gone, there was no need for either of them to leave, but they both decided there was no need for a mediator. Draco and Hermione could sort this one out for themselves.

‘Well, we’ll just leave you two kids to talk,’ Ron said, turning towards the door.

‘Yeah, we’ll go to lunch on our own. We’ll see you later,’ Harry added as he slid out from behind the desk to join Ron. ‘Take your time. We’ll be gone for an hour or so.’

‘You shouldn’t have come. I told you I didn’t want to see you,’ Hermione said, completely ignoring her friends as she stared at Draco.

‘I wasn’t going to let you run away from me, Hermione,’ Draco told her.

Harry and Ron took one final look at the couple, then left the room, closing the door firmly behind them.

‘You saw I’m getting a divorce,’ Draco said quietly. He took a step towards Hermione and held out his hand to her.

She shrugged. ‘So what? It doesn’t matter to me what you do. I don’t own you.’

‘Yes, you do. You know you do,’ Draco told her emphatically. ‘I love you, Hermione. I told you that before. I thought you loved me, too.’

Hermione didn’t say anything. Her heart was beating so fast she was sure Draco must be able to hear it. She couldn’t believe he was here, not really. She had seen the front page of the _Daily Prophet_ on her way into work and realised with a sinking heart that Draco had been telling her the truth all the time, but that didn’t make things any better. Sadly she recalled how she had told him to leave her alone, annoyed with him for making her feel stupid. And yet here he was, offering her his hand and expecting her to take it.

‘You do love me, I know you do,’ Draco said softly as he moved the last few feet between them and pulled Hermione into his arms.

His heart was beating like a drum as he pulled her to him, his mouth finding hers for a kiss that was more important and more beautiful than any they had ever shared before.

‘Marry me,’ he uttered quietly, his lips leaving hers for a just a moment before claiming them again.

Hermione’s heart danced wildly, a strange feeling in her stomach at the words Draco had just spoken. Was he serious? She knew he was. Hadn’t he told her the last time they were together that he wanted her as his wife rather than the one he already had? And he was getting rid of her. Soon she would be able to be Mrs Draco Malfoy if she wanted. But did she want that?

‘Please, darling. Do you want me on my knees? I’ll do anything you want . . . but please agree to be my wife.’

Hermione could feel tears forming. ‘But you’re still married at the moment.’

‘Yes, but only for another couple of months. Caro agreed to the divorce so it’s just a formality. It’ll take about another two months for the final paperwork to go through. Then we can get married.’ He saw the thoughtful look on Hermione’s face and added, ‘We don’t have to get married straight away if you don’t want to, but I really want to know that you will marry me one day.’

‘What about your job?’ Hermione asked. She was frowning again.

‘What about my job?’ Draco asked. He looked confused.

‘That’s a pretty dangerous job you do, Draco. I don’t know if I can cope with all that worry. Every time you went on shift I’d be forever panicking that you were going to get hurt . . . or worse. I’m sorry I know it’s selfish, especially after you rescued me, but I don’t think I can—’

‘I’m going to find another job,’ Draco told her. Hermione looked at him hopefully. ‘Everyone in the world has pointed out that it’s too dangerous for me to continue with, especially when I’ve got someone as wonderful as you that I want to spend time with rather than working or being on call.’ He smiled at her. ‘Anyway, I believe I had an interview for a job fairly recently. I’m just waiting to see if I’ve got it or not. I know the money isn’t great, but the perks are amazing. It’s the perfect job for me . . . if it’s still available.’

Hermione smiled, her eyes glistening with tears as she nodded her head.

‘Yes,’ she whispered, almost too quietly to hear. ‘Oh, yes, it is.’ She smiled at him as she added, ‘and yes, I will marry you, Draco.’

Draco grabbed her and kissed her again, a feeling of joy spreading throughout his entire body. Hermione was finally his and he was without a doubt the happiest man in the entire world.

‘We should go somewhere to celebrate,’ he told her once they finally stopped kissing for long enough to talk.

‘What, like lunch or something?’ Hermione asked. ‘I suppose we could go and see if we can find Harry and Ron.’

‘I was thinking more like going home and going to bed,’ Draco said with a wicked grin. ‘I haven’t made love to you for such a long time and it’s driving me insane, wanting to touch you so much.’

Hermione’s face fell a little and the champagne feeling that had been rushing through Draco dulled.

‘You don’t want to?’ he asked gently, hoping his disappointment wasn’t too visible. The last thing he wanted was to make Hermione feel guilty for not wanting to make love.

 ‘I don’t know where home is,’ Hermione admitted.

‘Well, what about your new place?’ Draco asked.

Hermione shook her head. ‘I haven’t been able to settle in and call it home. I know it’s only been a few months and Harry and Ron have both told me I’ve got to give it time, but to be honest I don’t really like it there.’

‘Well, in that case, it’s lucky I rented your old flat, then, isn’t it?’ Draco said with a grin.

Hermione looked at him in amazement. ‘You did?’

Draco nodded.

‘But why did you do that?’ Hermione asked.

Draco shrugged and pulled her close again.

‘I love that flat. It was the first place where I finally got to be with you, so it has real sentimental value. I also needed somewhere to live as I gave Caro the house in the divorce settlement and I didn’t want to continue living with her, not once she’d agreed. And there was no way I could stay living with my parents for long — that almost drove me mad. Anyway, your neighbour, Mrs Hamblin, is fantastic.’

‘Have you moved in?’ Hermione asked.

Draco nodded. ‘Yep, although to be honest there isn’t much in there. I think it could use a woman’s touch . . . and your furniture.’ He smiled hopefully.

Hermione stared at him appraisingly. ‘So what have you got in there at the moment?’

‘Only a bed,’ Draco admitted.

Hermione smiled. ‘Well, I think that’s enough to be going on with.’ She pulled Draco closer and kissed him. ‘I think I’d better take the afternoon off.’

‘The rest of the week would be better,’ Draco said. ‘It’ll give us a chance to move all your stuff back.’

Hermione giggled. ‘Harry and Ron are going to be so angry with me.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I made them move it all in the first place. I was so worried you’d turn up while I was moving, so I got them to do it for me. They moaned like hell because they didn’t understand why I wanted to move and they said I had too much stuff.’ Hermione shook her head as she thought about the moaning they had done at the time.

‘I didn’t understand either,’ Draco said.

‘I thought you were using me,’ Hermione admitted.

‘But I told you I wasn’t, Hermione. I explained about the marriage thing and I thought you understood,’ Draco told her, stroking her face.

Hermione sighed. ‘I know you did, Draco. But I thought you were lying because you’d been caught out. I’m sorry I couldn’t really believe that you loved me and wanted me, not after such a short time together. I felt stupid and embarrassed and I needed to get away.’

‘Please don’t ever leave me again,’ Draco said.

‘Will I have cause to?’ Hermione asked worriedly.

Draco shook his head. ‘Absolutely not. Everything is going to be perfect. We were meant to be together, Hermione. I told you that before.’

‘I know, but it was hard to believe . . . especially after what happened with Michael.’

‘You can forget all about him,’ Draco advised gently. ‘I rescued you from him and now you’re mine. He’s locked away in Azkaban and he’s never coming back.’ He kissed her gently. ‘Now . . . let’s go home.’

‘Yes, please, Hot Boy,’ Hermione said with a smile. 


End file.
